f 2-8, ISO 100
by Aquarius Galuxy
Summary: And she knows every curve of his face. Tenten keeps him a secret, and likes it that way (because he is untouchable like that, and admiration from a distance means she won't get hurt).
1. Catch me if you can

_New fic. I am SO excited about this because, photography. ;) Inspired by Kodachrome (Paul Simon), and a 1600mi/2400km round trip to Utah. This was originally meant to be a oneshot but it spiraled out of control. _

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

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><p><strong><span>f2.8, ISO 100  
>Chapter 1: Catch me if you can<strong>

"Name's Tenten. I'm the event photographer for _Music Without Sight_," she recites, flashing her lanyard with her name and designation on it. The uniformed lady at the counter looks over her bulky backpack, back again at her pass, and matches her face (hazel eyes, chocolate hair) with the grainy picture printed on the little card. (Tenten doesn't miss the way the woman's gaze lingers on her twin buns.)

"You're good to go," she tells Tenten, waving her forward. "_Music Without Sight_ is on the second floor, to your left."

With a quick nod of thanks, Tenten hefts the strap of her heavy bag to a more comfortable position on her shoulder, and strides further into the building. The entire place is posh - marble floors so reflective that it feels as if she'd fall into them, polished mahogany trimming along the ivory-papered walls, and intricate chandeliers hanging high over the center of the atrium. The stairs are carpeted in burgundy, the railings carved of rich, dark wood, and the soundproofing of the walls are so thoroughly done that there is little echo, if any.

Tenten gives herself a mental pat on the back - the stint is one of the first she's nailed since she's moved to this city, and she's positive it's all thanks to the nifty website she's set up, complete with full-page photographs of occasions she's covered, as well as maybe the strings her event-organizer friend, Ino, pulled.

She spots the poster for _Music Without Sight_ next to a set of large cherrywood doors, double-checks the venue, and slips in, closing the door quietly behind her.

The concert hall itself is cavernous; a sea of plush seats spreads out from the stage, and a smaller, higher tier curves along the edge of the hall, with exclusive booths scattered along it. What grabs Tenten's attention the most, though, is the elegant grand piano right in the middle of the stage - beautifully lit with warm yellow tones.

Without quite being aware of it, a smile spreads itself across her lips; Tenten hurries down the stairs to the stage and shrugs her backpack off. The hiss of its zipper is almost too loud in the hall, and she looks over her shoulder, catching the inconspicuously-dressed crew moving behind the side curtains of the stage. The pianist isn't here yet, she notes, and pulls her trusty Canon 5D Mark III out, its weight familiar in her hands.

Format memory card? _Check._

Full battery? _Check._

Low-light settings? _Check._

She clips a couple of lens holsters to her belt and fills them with her prime and zoom lenses, and parks the backpack in a corner, out of view. The stage crew pay her no mind - she checks the time (twenty minutes before the doors open; the pianist still isn't here yet?), and walks around on stage, examining how the lights fall on the piano.

There are quiet greetings from backstage, and as Tenten fires her test shots and checks her exposures on the LCD screen of her camera, someone walks out onto the stage, towards the piano. She turns to look at the same time he does-

Pale lilac eyes are the first thing she sees, accompanied by features so fine they look aristocratic.

Tenten remembers to breathe; one breath, two breaths. She can't remember the last time she's seen anyone look so regal - straight, ebony hair frame his face, its ends flowing past the collar of his white long-sleeved shirt.

"Hi," she says awkwardly, and waves her camera at him. He pauses by the seat of his piano to survey her, and his gaze dips beneath her neckline-

-She remembers a little too late that the card on her lanyard is nestled comfortably between her breasts (why oh why had she not adjusted the length of its strap?), after her cheeks have heated noticeably. Pale eyes flick back up at her face, and he smirks at her expression. Tenten gulps and looks away, at the sea of empty seats, and remembers the job she's here to do.

He does not return the greeting, merely offering a nod, before he seats himself and stretches his arms. She stalks to the edge of the stage and fiddles with the buttons on the camera (it's just an excuse for something to do, really), until he tests the chords on the piano, and begins to play.

For the second time that evening, Tenten finds herself breathless, because this nameless stranger is winding lilting, melodic tunes around her chest, that bring her to another dimension. She chances a look back at him - his eyes are closed and the shadows cast his face in sharp relief) - and knows that he is picture-perfect right there, in that moment.

Tenten grabs her prime lens (for portraits, and speed) and switches it with the one on her camera before she's aware of what she's doing - all she knows is the click of the lens lock, and the way the camera vibrates quietly with its image stabilization motors- The eyepiece is against her eye and she's stepping forward and framing her pictures, and clicking away, the music reverberating in her body the entire time.

He stops playing when an usher comes up to the stage and announces that the doors will be opening for the guests soon - Tenten looks up from checking her image previews and their eyes meet again. Her heart skips. It's impossible for anyone to have eyes so pale, so penetrating (it feels as if he's looking right through her)-

She blinks, and the moment is gone. He is heading backstage without a second glance, and she removes herself from the stage hastily, dragging her backpack to her front-row corner seat.

Tenten slumps in the plush cushions and scrolls through the pictures she's taken of him, the nameless pianist - the photos have turned out great, with the warm lights and his serene countenance, and his elegant fingers flying over the keyboard. She's excited about them - so very excited - but the concert has yet to begin, and it's another hour-and-a-half of heavenly music before she can go home and edit what she's got so far.

She kicks herself for not daring to go backstage - dare she? _No, this is enough_, she tells herself - and thinks that she's better off keeping this man at arm's length. He makes her feel a little too reckless. Impulsive. Her heart is thundering and she wants so many more pictures of him that it's madness just thinking this way.

So she pinches the bridge of her nose and counts to ten, and pulls her phone out to search for more photography jobs. (Tenten makes sure to not look up the name of the pianist for_Music Without Sight_.)

Nothing of note happens when the concert begins; Tenten is back on her feet and snapping picture after picture by the stage, stooping so she doesn't mar the view of the upper-class audience. The pianist does not look at her, or give any indication that he knows of her presence, and her heart sings along with the notes he sends streaming out into the hall, calming in one song and angry in the next.

She wonders about him, about the stories behind the songs, but makes certain to keep her camera between them at all times, as if it were a shield.

When the time comes for the interval, the pianist returns backstage, and Tenten leaves the concert hall, cradling the backpack with her precious equipment, her mind and heart a tangled whirl.

* * *

><p>Tenten thinks she's infatuated.<p>

It has been three weeks since _Music Without Sight_, and she still doesn't know who he is. The pictures she's taken of him have long been edited and sent-

And she knows every curve of his face.

The amount of time she's spent looking at her pictures of him is embarrassing; she's memorized the arch of his eyebrows and the fineness of his cheekbones, and the firm set of his lips. There are now pictures of him on the wall of her studio, alongside her other work, and she's set them in the very corner, far from view, and intimate.

(Vaguely, she wonders if he'd be surprised that she's kept those pictures of him. He does not seem the type to be easily startled.)

Tenten keeps him a secret, and likes it that way (because he is untouchable like that, and admiration from a distance means she won't get hurt).

* * *

><p>The next time she sees him is at a political rally.<p>

A swarm of people are gathered by the makeshift stage, waving flags and banners and cheering at something someone is saying. The words blaring from the loudspeakers glide past her ears and over her head, into the rest of the crowd (she isn't interested in lies and empty promises).

Tenten has planted herself at the front lines of the media area, where it's packed, humid, and there are flashes going off all around her, firing at whoever is speaking at the moment. The lenses next to her are huge and expensive (shooting politicians instead of wildlife for Nat Geo, really?), and she wonders if this political party is more popular in this city than the others. At least the media gets a covered booth, providing much-appreciated shade from the intense midday sun.

She scratches at her sweaty neck and raises her camera to her face for the umpteenth time, bored - until she glances around at whoever might be going up to the pedestal to speak next, and spots _him_. Would anyone really miss those pale lilac eyes?

He is in a suit and tie today, still looking regal, and as aloof as ever. (Even when it's ninety-five degrees out.) Her heart thumps loudly.

She bites her lip and aims her camera at him instead, turning the flash unit off - he is looking at the crowd from his spot by the stage when her shutter opens and captures him, frozen in time. _Why is he here?_ she wonders, and barely remembers to take her obligatory pictures when the next person comes up to speak. This time, she observes him from afar, and marvels at how he stays so damn neutral in spite of everything - the crowd, the heat, the aggravating lies that make up politics.

Her suspicions are confirmed when the man himself walks up onto the stage and greets the crowd - he introduces himself as Hyuuga Neji in a smooth baritone - Tenten's eyes widen when she realizes that he must be part of the renowned Hyuuga Corporation, and that he is both a politician and a pianist.

This time, she almost forgets to even take a picture of him. Tenten clamps her jaw shut and fiddles with her camera, looking at him through her telephoto lens (for its long range, and how it fades the background into a blur).

Hyuuga Neji talks about the taxes and roads and education, and Tenten listens - his points are concise and well-aimed, though her focus wavers after a while, and she contents herself with just listening to his voice. She wonders why he's in politics, when he seems to have more life in him when he's seated behind the piano, his fingers caressing bone-white keys. (Would that touch be just as steady on her?)

She snaps back into taking pictures when he makes to leave the stage. His pale gaze surveys the crowd once again, and she knows that he will skip looking at the journalists, who are ever-hungry for photos and gossip.

Except he doesn't.

She feels her throat go dry when his roving eyes settle on her, and her fingers grip her camera a little tighter, as if it were her safety blanket.

He looks pointedly to the far side of the square, away from the rally, and back at her.

Tenten gives a shaky nod (if he's thinking what she's thinking) and extracts herself slowly from the mess of photographers and journalists, making sure to bring her trusty backpack with her. (_This is insanity,_ she tells herself, _he doesn't even know you._)

She stumbles on the uneven ground and hopes desperately that he's not already labeling her as a klutz, moving parallel to his trajectory until the crowd thins, and he heads towards her. Tenten is very thankful that she's standing beneath the shade of a large tree when he stops within a yard of her. Up close, he is just a little taller than her, with broad shoulders, and the tiniest beads of perspiration on his forehead. He's maybe as old as she. Just as handsome as he is in her pictures.

"You missed the second half of my concert," Neji tells her evenly, pale eyes roaming over her face. Tenten freezes, and swallows. Her face flushes crimson. Was he offended by that?

"I, um, I had to go home," she mumbles weakly, slinging her camera strap onto her shoulder. "I did enjoy your music, though," she adds as an afterthought, and hopes she's forgiven for her misdemeanor.

His gaze coasts down her shirt - Tenten is very grateful that the card on her lanyard is now against her midriff instead. His attention lingers for a little longer than necessary, however, and she wonders if he's imagining-

"I saw your pictures in the magazines," Neji remarks offhandedly as his eyes meet hers again. "Impressive."

Her heart flutters. Tenten manages a weak grin and thinks she might be feeling just a little bit giddy. "Um, thanks?" she replies, shrugging. "It was my pleasure."

"Do you do headshots?" he asks abruptly. She blinks. A business opportunity? That isn't where she expects the conversation to head (or for it to head anywhere at all).

"In my studio, yeah," she answers, and remembers to pull a glossy, bent business card out of her jeans pocket. Neji's fingers are warm when he takes it from her. "I'm open to shooting outdoors as well, if you require it."

"Just Tenten?" He looks between her and the printed name on her card. "No family name?"

"I... No, no family name," she tells him, with the slightest hesitation. He doesn't need to know all the crap behind that. Neji's brows lift, just a little.

"I'll come by sometime. My portfolios need an update," he intones, and pockets her card. "Coffee?"

Tenten stares at him. And remembers that she's supposed to be stationed at the rally. "No, I gotta return in a minute. Some other time, perhaps?"

She grins awkwardly at him, and he nods at her, the faintest trace of disappointment in his eyes. "I'll be contacting you," he says, by way of parting.

"Drop me an email," Tenten tells him, excitement robbing her of breath. Hyuuga Neji in her studio? Really? What the hell is she thinking? "My schedule's not that packed yet."

She turns to leave, and feels his gaze following her all the way back to the stiflingly crowded media stand.

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><p><em>I am SO excited. Aren't you? ;) Hi-five to photographers and photography fans out there!<em>


	2. Headshots (Part I)

_This update was sooner than expected - I'm thinking short chapters and frequent updates are preferred? ;)  
><em>

_For those of you who aren't aware of them, I have a collection of NejiTen drabbles, Postcards from Moments in Time, that will be reaching completion soon... plus, a humorous crack!fic about knitting ninja, Close Knit Shinobi. ;)_

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

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><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 2: Headshots (Part I)<strong>

Hyuuga Neji's appointment is today and Tenten is a bundle of _nerves_.

She's swept the floors of her loft apartment, and tidied everything leading up to the studio, thankful that she's kept the theme somewhat minimalist. From the entrance, all Neji will see are the large floor-length windows to his left, spewing sunlight onto her backdrops and general studio space, the closed doors to her other rooms straight ahead of him, and a kitchen and living area to his right, complete with her computer, printers, and an assortment of her best photos on the walls (his pictures are in the very corner, far away from her computer).

Tenten is loading a memory card and battery into her camera when the doorbell rings. She gives a start, and the incessant flutter in her chest begins anew. He's half an hour early.

"Hi," she greets him at the door, and hopes her breathlessness doesn't show. His pale lilac eyes look into her, right through her, and she wonders what he sees.

Neji yields a tiny smile, a mere quirk of his lips. She steps aside to let him in, hardly missing the way his gaze scans her apartment in appraisal.

He's dressed in a simple shirt and trousers today, and his hair is captured in a little band right above the neatly-trimmed ends, a beautiful cascade of ebony. Tenten glances at the bundle beneath his arm.

"Did you bring the change of clothes for the two looks we've talked about?" she asks, casually, and buries her emotions with a smooth transition into professionalism. They've discussed shots for both his political and musical portfolios, enough that Tenten has a vivid idea how those pictures will look. The sooner they get done, the sooner he'll be out of her life, and the feelings of calm and hopeless infatuation can make their way out of the closet again.

"I did," he answers, mildly. Tenten tries not to focus on the timbre of his voice.

She leads him over to the studio and pulls a stool out, gesturing for him to have a seat. "Sorry," she begins, "I wasn't expecting you this early."

He sets his bundle down and seats himself, watching as she unrolls a different backdrop against the wall - one of wood panels on a matte surface. She draws a thin, white curtain over the windows next, to soften the harsh sunlight on his face, and grabs her camera from her desk.

"Would you like coffee or water?" Tenten thinks to ask, and kicks herself mentally for having forgotten. She brings the camera over to the studio and studies the light falling on him, appreciating his clean features.

"Green tea, if you have that. Water will suffice if you don't," he murmurs, and she flashes a quick, strained smile at him. That bedroom voice is the last thing she wants right now.

"Green tea it is," she answers, and hurries to the kitchen. "Feel free to change into your first set of clothes," she adds over her shoulder, "The bathroom is the door on the right."

Tenten pulls a mug from the cabinet and dispenses hot water from a thermos, looking curiously over her shoulder when she hears no movement from Neji.

She finds him on his feet, bare-chested, drawing a crisp linen shirt from the bundle he's brought along with him.

The hot water overflows onto the counter and drips onto her foot, and she swears, hopping back. Neji looks over. She feels some of that heat in her foot manifesting itself on her face, and refuses to look at him. "It's a kitchen mishap, no biggie," she tells him. And swears at herself again.

Neji is dressed and sitting calmly on his stool by the time she walks over with the steaming mug of tea, setting it onto a folding table near him.

"Careful with that, it's hot," Tenten feels the need to say (albeit it turns out a little grouchy).

"So I've heard," he smirks, and she tries to keep her expression from turning sour.

"Ready for the first round?" she asks, grabbing her camera from where she's set it, and stepping back to review the setup.

"Sure." Neji takes a sip from his mug and sets it down, his gaze clinging to her red-rimmed camera strap, that screams "Canon" all over it. "Not a fan of Nikon?"

Tenten looks at him in surprise, and glances at her camera. "Canon has warmer color tones," she tells him. "Among a bunch of other reasons."

He nods, and gives a wry smile. "I have friends who will argue with you about that."

The laughter that bubbles from her throat surprises even herself. (It's no secret that there are camps of fans who will stand resolutely by their favorite brand to the very end.) "I'm aware of that," she replies, and lifts the camera to her face when he relaxes, sitting on a stool so she's at eye-level with him. "Turn your head towards me, just a little, so the light falls better on your face."

"Why photography?" Neji asks, moving his head just the slightest bit, and Tenten's breath catches at the dance of light and shadow on his countenance. It's not the shot he wants, but he is absolutely beautiful in this light.

"Stop right there," she tells him, and focuses the camera on his eyes, framing the picture. She clicks the shutter button, and the viewfinder flashes black momentarily, as if it were blinking. "Now, angle your entire body so you're facing me. That's it."

He waits until she's got a few more pictures of him in, before pressing, "You haven't answered my question."

"Am I obligated to?" She grins, and returns, "Why the piano?"

He smirks again. "I asked first."

"Now, that's just childish," she retorts, and tries to hide her smile when the smirk falls from his lips. "Besides, a woman has to have her secrets."

"That's sexist," he responds, arching a brow in challenge.

Tenten rolls her eyes, and pads over to show him the previews of what she's taken thus far. This set of portraits is done in natural light, though without a reflector, so that faint shadows cling to the side of his face further from the window. That aside, her exposure is perfect (the photos aren't too dark or bright), and the black jacket, white shirt and blue tie serve to bolster his image as a man of politics.

"I'd like to see you smile a little in these pictures. It'll help people feel more connected to you," Tenten tells him, and grabs a reflector with a stand from the array of equipment behind her. Neji acquiesces with a small nod.

She feels his eyes on her as she adjusts the flat, reflective surface, angling it so that light from the window is reflected onto the shadowy side of his face. Satisfied with her efforts, Tenten returns to her stool, and looks at him again through the viewfinder of her camera.

"Well, to answer your question - I guess I'm sentimental and appreciate beauty," she says, snapping a picture, before lifting the camera away from her face. He stares unblinkingly at her. "Besides, it feels a little like I'm wielding a weapon, you know? Loading this machine with the essentials, aiming, sniping. Except that you aren't killing anyone with it."

Neji raises his eyebrows, as if her words have piqued his interest. "You enjoy shooting firearms?" he asks mildly.

"I hit the target every time." Tenten grins proudly at him. "Wanna challenge me to a match?"

He smiles in response, slight quirks at the corners of his lips that soften his gaze a little. The camera is instantly pressed to her face and she's clicking away again, before he realizes what she's doing.

"Got it," Tenten mutters, when she scrolls through the previews of the newer images. Neji's face is well-lit, and the smile playing on his lips makes him look that much more approachable (though it isn't as if he smiles a lot in reality). She returns to his side, and shows him her final photos, the ones that are exactly what they've been talking about over email. "What do you think?"

"They fit the image I have in mind," he acknowledges, and Tenten realizes he smells clean, of soap and pine. She quells the temptation to lean closer for a better sniff, and takes a step backwards to survey him (and also to put some distance between them).

"Ready to move on to the next look?" she asks, grinning at him.

"Sure." Neji shrugs out of his jacket, and loosens his tie - Tenten gulps, because he looks so damn sexy like that and- "Did I grow a second head?" he questions, flicking his lilac gaze up at her, and she freezes.

"No! Um, I was just studying how to light you next," Tenten rambles, and hopes the slight flush in her cheeks doesn't give her away. She turns away to draw a thicker curtain over the windows, cutting sunlight completely out of the room.

Residual light from the kitchen window shines weakly into the studio and living area, and Tenten uses this to pick her way carefully through the room, switching a softbox on. The warm yellow-orange light stretches in a single direction towards the backdrops, casting Neji in an entirely different glow. She leaves him to change into his next outfit, and closes the blinds in the kitchen, before heading back. The backdrop is switched to a flat grey, that will make his dark hair and pale skin stand out.

"So, why music and politics?" Tenten asks, as she anchors her camera onto a tripod and pulls a strobe light from her collection, setting it at an angle from the camera. "That's not a combination you see too often."

Neji looks past her for a moment, as if deep in contemplation, methodically buttoning the next shirt (it's a simple white one with the buttons resting on a tailored strip, that has her staring when he leaves the top button undone). Tenten bites her lip to draw her attention away, and plugs the strobe into her camera, adjusting its settings to compensate for the new addition. It is a few test shots with the strobe before he finally answers.

"My family wanted me to go into politics," he says slowly. "Music is... I guess you could call it a sanctuary."

Perhaps it is the way the darkness has shrunken the room to the sphere of light from the softbox, or perhaps it's how personal the conversation is; Tenten finds herself speaking a little softer, and relishes the way Neji's tone drops in response.

"Not fond of making empty promises, huh?" she grins at him, and her heart stumbles when he lifts his gaze to hers. Neji looks a little less guarded, and all the more human for it. _You're beautiful,_ she wants to say, but keeps it to herself instead.

"It's not all empty promises," Neji tells her solemnly, "Though there are external circumstances that make it difficult to deliver on what we promise."

"And yet you lead people to believe that that's what will happen," she probes.

"I don't enjoy it, for your information," he says stiffly, a frown creasing his forehead, and Tenten winces with sympathy.

"I tried looking up your concerts," she mentions suddenly, to change the topic, and notices the way his shoulders sag a little in relief. "You don't have very many scheduled at all."

The smile that was on his lips before returns. "I perform four times a year."

Tenten gawks at him, holding her fingers up. "Just four?"

"That's all I have time for," he responds, shrugging, though his gaze never leaves her. And she remembers, belatedly, that they're in the middle of a photo shoot.

"I'll see if I can shoot the next one," she tells him, and returns to adjusting the settings on her camera. "Turn towards me when you're ready."

* * *

><p><em>Yay for some backstory ;)<em>


	3. Headshots (Part II)

_Just a little something to get us all through the week. ;) I have actually finished writing the first draft of this story, can you believe it?_

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

* * *

><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 3: Headshots (Part II)<strong>

The shadows and light from the softbox remind Tenten of the concert hall, though Neji isn't with a piano, and isn't lost in a world of his own this time. Nonetheless, she focuses the camera, again on his eyes, and clicks the shutter button. White light floods the studio momentarily, and the image that shows up on her LCD screen is one of Neji's face, half in shadows. The exposure is, again, perfect.

They work in silence for the next few moments, with Tenten adjusting her camera and strobe light to further accentuate his facial features, though a magnification of a preview image brings a stray strand of hair into focus. She grimaces - they would have to repeat part of the process again.

"There's a strand of hair on your cheek," she tells Neji, pointing at her own face to show him its approximate location. He attempts to brush it off, and misses, and Tenten finds herself walking forward. "If you'll allow me to-" she starts, bending close to him and sweeping the strand off with her fingertips.

The way his pale eyes lock onto hers roots her to the spot, robbed of breath. Up close, she sees that there are deeper flecks of purple in his irises, that he has long, elegant lashes, and that his lips are a little chapped. What would they feel like against hers-

"You like wearing your hair up," Neji murmurs, and her pulse quickens.

Tenten retreats to the back of her camera for safety.

He is far more captivating in the shadows than in sunlight, Tenten realizes. Silence stretches between them, and she clicks away to her heart's content, the only words between them being her directions to alter his position. When she is finally done, Tenten releases her camera from the tripod and strobe, and brings it over to Neji, scrolling through the image previews to show him the second set.

He inclines his head. "They look more than satisfactory to me. We'll use these."

She looks at him from the corner of her eye, and grins. "You're an easy client," she comments, and her smile widens when his slender eyebrows lift. "I mean, most of my other clients would request for the shots to be repeated - 'My hair isn't straight enough,' or 'Make me look thinner,' or- You get the idea."

A smirk quirks his lips. "I'm not picky about my appearance."

"Says the man who has the smoothest hair and perfect skin," Tenten grumbles. Neji's eyes narrow.

"Do you make a habit of talking to your clients this way?" he asks archly, and she has the grace to blush.

"No. It really depends on their personalities, I guess," she answers sheepishly, and realizes a little too late that he could take that as a snub-

"And I am not deserving of respect?" He's watching her carefully, his expression neutral.

Tenten feels her entire body tense, and blood drains from her face. "Th-that's not what I meant!" she sputters, "I mean, I admire you a lot and I just had this feeling that you wouldn't mind if I cracked a joke or two!"

The smirk returns to his countenance. She realizes only then that he has been playing her, and glares fiercely at him.

"If you weren't my client," she mutters, setting the camera down and walking over to the windows to pull the curtains back open, "I would totally throttle you."

"So you would have me think," Neji returns evenly. He squints a little when sunlight floods her apartment once more, and Tenten blinks quickly, retreating from the sheer brightness.

"Anyway, the headshots," she says loudly, grabbing her camera and making her way over to the living area. "If you don't mind waiting for a bit, I'll have them printed and burned onto a CD for you in no time."

"Sure," he replies, and follows her to the computer, where she draws a chair up for him, next to hers.

For the next few minutes, Tenten concentrates on transferring the photographs from her memory card to the computer, and Neji watches when she opens the image files on Photoshop, narrowing the pictures down to a select few.

"I would suggest using this image," she starts, clicking on one of those shot in sunlight. In the picture, he's staring straight at the camera, the smallest of smiles on his lips. (Tenten thinks she might even prefer this to the one with shadows falling over his face, that she took at the very start.)

The basic edits are simple - sharpening the image, increasing the contrasts and brightness, and lightening the whites of his eyes. Neji is looking approvingly at the picture by the time she's done, so she does a light vignetting around the edges of the picture, to keep the viewer's attention on his face, and saves a copy of the final image. Tenten repeats the same process for Neji's musical portfolio headshot, though in this, she adds an orange hue to the picture, to give him the warmth he doesn't radiate. In this second picture, he is regal, aloof, and there are stark shadows on his face that accentuate his fine features.

"I get the feeling that the journalists would love to gossip about the contrast between these two images," Tenten comments dryly, as she saves a copy of the second photo. She glances at Neji, who has been studying the various framed photographs on the wall above her computer.

"I suppose I should care more about losing my position in politics," Neji muses, as he stands and makes his way closer to the wall, where her other photographs are. Tenten wonders if she should herd him away before he gets too close to those pictures of him she took at his concert. "It doesn't interest me as much as it should."

"Why even stay in that line?" Tenten isn't able to help but ask. It's hard to imagine doing something one doesn't much care for. "Surely you'd be happier just focusing on your music."

"I am tied to expectations by my family," Neji tells her, his tone tinted with a trace of impatience. He returns to looking at her photographs as she begins writing a copy of his photos onto a CD. "Your work is remarkable."

"Thanks," she responds, awkwardly, and looks back at her screen, to get his images ready for printing. (She didn't mean to pry, really.)

"I'm surprised that you've framed three pictures of me," Neji remarks, and turns to look at her. She stiffens, and turns her head slowly to look at him, uselessly fighting the heat that lights her cheeks aflame.

"Well, you- they're gorgeous," she stammers, and inwardly chastises herself for the slip. Tenten dips her head to check on the paper in her printer, to hide her embarrassment. Who would've thought that he would examine all of her framed work?

She feels, more than sees, the smirk on Neji's face. He turns back to the pictures, and moves further along the wall.

"Nudes?" he questions, sounding thoughtful. Neji turns to look at her again.

Tenten shrugs. It's a genre she's been experimenting in, because the human form is beautiful in light and shadow. "I'm... exploring the genre, I guess."

Neji steps back so he's able to look at her and the photographs in question at the same time. "Do you include yourself as a model, or are you solely the photographer in these?"

"The photographer," she tells him. These images have been shot in her apartment with various female model friends she's invited over, girl friends who have expressed their interest in artistic nude photography. There's no way that he can dispute their taste, because she's had the models strategically cover their intimate parts, all while maintaining the composition of the pictures.

He studies her for a long moment. Tenten fights to stay still beneath his gaze, and the distinct feeling that he's looking into her is present again. "Why don't you model for yourself?"

It's a possibility she has considered. "I... Well, it's tedious, for one," she explains, albeit uncomfortably. Tenten doesn't want to admit that she would feel incredibly exposed in front of her own lens. "And I'm not that great a model."

"You'd be surprised by what you can do, I'm sure," Neji tells her quietly, and she forgets to breathe for a second, her gaze flying up to meet his. The irony that she is having this conversation with a particularly handsome client (especially one she's hopelessly infatuated with) does not miss her.

"W-well, I was just thinking that I could gain more insight by working with male models," she blurts, as an excuse to turn the focus away from herself. "I haven't sourced for one so far."

Another length of silence stretches between them, before Neji replies, just as softly as before, "I could model for you."

This time, Tenten gapes at him. She is vaguely aware that her jaw is hanging, but Neji, _the_ Hyuuga Neji, is suggesting that he strip naked before her lens?

"I- I couldn't even begin to afford your rates," she gasps, still reeling, her mind so full of possible images-

"There is an exchange in the photographic world - 'Time for Prints', isn't there?" he asks, neutrally, though his pale eyes are still boring into hers. "My time, in exchange for prints."

She nods mutely at him, failing to see how this would benefit him any, unless he were a narcissist. Her pulse thunders in her ears. Tenten is very glad that she's still in her chair, because her knees would have failed her otherwise.

"However, I would like to change the terms of that, should you be agreeable - I will model nude for you, in exchange for prints of you, as both the photographer and the model." At her continuing stare, he clarifies, "We will both be anonymous and nude in these images."

Tenten is doubly glad that she's still sitting in her chair, because she would have fallen over this time, if she had not before.

"Are you serious?" she all but squeaks. She doesn't know if she's more overwhelmed by the fact that he's volunteering to pose for her, or that he's interested in seeing her bare, even if it's only through pictures of her.

"I am, though none of this is set in stone until you are agreeable with it," Neji says, blandly (it's unfair that he is so unaffected by all of this, Tenten acknowledges at the back of her mind).

The rest of the session passes by in a blur, when she hands him his CD and printed portraits in an envelope, and Neji shakes her hand, telling her that he'll keep in touch with her via email. Tenten sinks into her couch afterwards, still in a daze, and makes up her mind. It is a challenge she will not back down from.

* * *

><p><em>Ohhh the plot thickens. ;)<em>


	4. Modeling 101 (Part I)

_The husband and I recently had some photography published in a magazine, woohoo! I have actually also created some supplementary material for this chapter - will mention more on that at the end of the chapter._

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

* * *

><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 4: Modeling 101 (Part I)<strong>

Tenten takes a deep breath, and shrugs out of her clothes. It's just like showering, she tells herself. Just that she's dry and keeping still until the shutter clicks.

The camera and tripod are already in place. Between the email conversation with Neji and today, she's decided on four shots to offer him as prints - suggestive, but not explicit - and Tenten finds herself more worried about what he would think of her, and those pictures, than the act itself.

She allows herself a little time to adjust to moving around stark naked, with air breezing over her skin, before stepping behind her camera, to frame the shot. A stuffed bear (from her best friend, Lee) is already on the sheet-covered stool in her stead - she sets the timer, focuses on the bear, and pushes the button, counting the seconds in her head as she hurries over and grabs the toy, tossing it out of the picture with a silent apology. Tenten plants herself heavily on the newly-unoccupied seat.

The camera clicks before she's fully ready, and she curses, hurrying back to look at the image she's captured.

In this first trial picture, her arms are awkwardly settling into place, the lamp doesn't quite light her back like she wants it to, and her hair is still in her customary twin buns (the bear is in the corner, though she can fix that with a closer crop). Tenten unties her hair and shakes it loose, and readjusts the framing of her picture, so that it would capture more of her, and less of the backdrop and things around her studio. She replaces the stuffed toy, and starts over.

This time, she's ready before the shutter clicks, and angles her back so the lamp light would have a better reach over the contours of her back.

The second shot is overexposed, a large patch of too-bright skin, and Tenten winces.

The third, she tries turning back to look at the camera, so it captures her lips, though the twisting of her back moves the shadows to where she doesn't want them to be.

The fourth, she moves her arms, to achieve a better pose, but only succeeds in making the picture awkward instead.

It is multiple failed attempts before Tenten finally arrives at a picture she's proud of - it is a photograph of her bare back, starting from the hint of a smile on her face, turned sideways, that leads the viewer down the curve of her back (a thin, white scar stretches all along one side, that she hopes he doesn't notice), ending in the curves of her bottom, and the ripples of pure white cloth. She will be cropping the photograph so that only her lips are visible, and the format becomes a square instead of a rectangle (the idea of a series of four pictures resonates well with her).

The next picture is of her crouching on the stool, arms cradling a raised leg, with her chin dipped, so her hair curtains her face. In the third image, possibly the most sensual so far, Tenten holds a casual arm over her chest, and her other hand slanted over her groin, and frames it so that the picture excludes her shoulders and half her thighs (she wonders what Neji would think of this one, if it would pique his curiosity).

The thought of Neji, once raised, does not go away - Tenten imagines his reactions to her pictures, and sees, in her mind's eye, his appraising look, his calm, how he shakes her up, and never the other way.

So she focuses the camera a little distance ahead of her, to bring her crooked fingertip into sharp focus, while throwing a blur across the rest of her form. She returns to her seat, parts her legs, and leans forward. A hand gripping the stool between her legs prevents the image from becoming too explicit, and Tenten smirks when she nails the final picture, looking it over in satisfaction.

_Eat this, Neji._

* * *

><p>When the doorbell rings this time, Tenten is prepared for it.<p>

She greets Neji at the door and ushers him in. "Make yourself at home," she tells him, ignoring the little quaver of excitement in her voice. "Green tea again?"

He nods, and surveys her apartment as before, and Tenten gives herself a little pat on the back when she does not spill his tea this time. Neji is still standing by the door when she emerges with his mug, so she sets it on the folding table, and turns to him. (His pale eyes are sharp and perceptive as always, and she wonders what exactly he's gleaning of her.)

"We could start with clothed shots, or just you in underwear, if you're uncomfortable with jumping straight into nudes," she tells him, picking her camera off her desk. (It's loaded and ready to go - she's made sure to check three times over.)

"The pictures?" he asks, his tone low, and Tenten feels his deep voice wash over her ears, like an ocean wave.

"Should've known that you require visible proof of our agreement," she jests, and grabs the paper bag by the door. The four pictures slide easily out of their carrier, and she hands the thick, square pieces to him in a stack, with the picture she took first on the very top. "I left them unframed, in case you wanted different frames for them. They're the _Amber Glass _series."

Tenten watches with baited breath as his eyes skim over the matte image, with a wide, white border around the amber tones (she's tinted all of them in that shade, to remove the gaudy quality that flesh tones give photographs). It feels as if he's looking at her without her clothes on, even when she's standing in jeans and a T-shirt next to him.

Neji says nothing, merely moves on to the next picture, and the picture after that. His lilac eyes dart over each image, and Tenten gulps when he finally reaches the final photograph, the most provocative one that she's saved for last.

His eyebrows lift, and he glances between her and the picture, lingering longest on this final image. Tenten feels her face heat. It certainly seemed a good idea at the time, though right now, it probably wouldn't matter if she didn't have clothes on, for how well he must know her through these portraits anyway.

"Well, it's art," she tells him lamely, and shrugs. "If you're still interested in these and the shoot, they're yours at the end of the session."

The stare he turns on her is intense, unreadable, and she draws a quick breath. Her heart races.

"Well-composed. You pose fluidly despite having misgivings," Neji replies evenly, handing the pictures back to her. "I like them very much - you've surpassed my expectations."

"Did you think that lowly of me?" she snaps, through the heat darkening her cheeks, and slides the photographs back into their carrying bag.

He smirks at her. "Far from it."

The warmth in her face doubles; Tenten returns the paper bag to its original position and pulls the camera strap off her shoulder to busy herself. "So, are we starting off clothed or nude?"

"Nude," he tells her easily, and she swallows. Sure, she's seen naked men before, but Neji, without a stitch on him?

"The bathroom is on the right of the hallway, if you prefer to undress in private," she tells him weakly.

His gaze returns to hers. "And if I did so here?"

Tenten gulps audibly. "If you prefer it that way, sure."

Neji nods in acknowledgement, and she blinks rapidly when he turns away and begins to unbutton his shirt. _Focus_, Tenten, she tells herself, and closes her eyes, drawing deep breaths to clear her thoughts.

He is down to white cotton briefs when she opens her eyes, his clothes neatly folded in a pile beside him. Tenten wets her lips, steps back, and observes her apartment. If she's going to have a male nude model for a couple of hours, she's damn well going to cover as much photographic ground with him as she possibly can.

All her thoughts are shot to hell when he pulls his underwear off.

Tenten stares at Neji's trim behind, and wonders vaguely how much exercise he clocks each week. She doesn't allow herself to imagine touching him, but damn! Those curves are hot and-

Neji turns to face her, and Tenten snatches her gaze back up to his eyes in mortification (and the visual of his crotch has burned itself into her mind). She covers her face with her spare hand, mumbling, "I don't think I'm ready for this."

She knows he's smirking even before she pieces her shattered composure together and looks at him again. "I'll sign your model release form while you figure things out," he suggests, and Tenten hurriedly complies, pulling two blank copies of the form from a drawer on her desk.

He makes himself comfortable at her desk, where the forms and her stationery are, and Tenten removes herself to a distance away, far enough that she isn't as distracted by his presence. (It's a little strange, because she hasn't been this frazzled in the presence of other models, or other nude men.) As he dips his head in perusal, however, Tenten begins to notice the diffused light on him, courtesy of her thin curtains across the windows.

The next action comes easily to her - she lifts her camera and snaps a picture, studying the objects around Neji, and the light accentuating his musculature. The majority of his form is hidden by the back of the desk chair, however, and she finds herself moving forward, tapping him softly on the shoulder (his skin is warm, and velvety).

"Turn to face the light," she tells Neji, who glances up at her. There is a measure of interest in his eyes, that notes the difference in the way she carries herself. Tenten smiles, and swivels the chair so his legs and chest are lit, yet keeping his face angled away from her at the same time, to preserve his anonymity. "That's better."

She steps back again, and takes her pictures, framing and reframing her shots (some are wide-angled, including a large portion of the room, so that Neji's figure occupies but a mere corner of it, while others have him taking up a far larger part of the composition, as a study of the human form). The shutter is still clicking when he leans closer to the desk to print his details on the papers, and Tenten steps closer, snapping photographs of the curve of his arm, and the angles of his torso and legs.

* * *

><p><em>Anyway, regarding the supplementary material - I have shot Tenten's Amber Glass series, the link to it can be found on my profile page. :)<em>


	5. Modeling 101 (Part II)

_It's Wednesday... the weekend is soon. Not sure what I feel about the Naruto series ending... "shocking end"? Is Sasuke going to get pregnant? I can't imagine what could possibly be shocking anymore lol :P _

_Am currently working on a Naruto/Digimon oneshot that has gone a little out of hand..._

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

* * *

><p><strong><span>f2.8, ISO 100  
>Chapter 5: Modeling 101 (Part II)<strong>

"You seem to have done modeling work before," she remarks, casually, when Neji slides the forms away and sets the pen down. Tenten scans the papers to make sure that he's filled all the required blanks, checking that he's agreed to the terms of usage of his pictures (the photos won't be sold for commercial use, and they'll split the profits of print sales), that he's over 18, and that his initials and signatures are in the required spaces. (It's definitely a coincidence that he's born in the same year as she is.)

"Briefly, for glamour shoots," Neji tells her. He watches as she slips one set of forms into the paper bag with her prints, and the other set into a drawer with her other signed releases.

"You're no stranger to photography, or art," she surmises, crossing the distance between them to show him the image previews of what she's got so far.

"I majored in public policy. Art and music were my minors," he responds, and she looks at him in surprise.

"I expected you to have completed a major in music too," Tenten explains, watching him for a reaction.

"I didn't need it, did I?" He smirks at her, and returns to the image previews she's scrolling through. None of the pictures give any indication of his identity - Tenten sees his quiet approval (because incriminating photographs could well jeopardize his career as a politician).

"You're the personification of arrogance," she tells him, rolling her eyes.

"So?" he angles, slyly. "It doesn't fetter your attraction any."

Heat surges into her face anew, and Tenten glares at him, for lack of any appropriate defenses to hurl in return. "Shut up, Hyuuga."

She leads him to the kitchen, and an idea slips into her mind - the perfect way to take his pride down by a notch or two. Neji stands around while she rummages through a drawer, pulling a mass of pink, frilly fabric out by its strings.

"You don't expect me to wear that," he states, distaste flitting across his regal countenance.

"Yes, I do. With nothing else on, mind," Tenten grins, and shoves the apron at him, a gurgle of laughter bubbling from her throat when he scowls and ties it onto his manly form. "Just one thing, though - we've got to do something about your hair. It'll be a dead giveaway to your identity otherwise."

He watches her, disgruntled, as she leaves the kitchen, and returns with a hair tie and a baseball cap.

"That's the best I have at a moment's notice," she tells him, and waits as he ties his hair up, and tucks it into the baseball cap. "You look strange like that."

"I appreciate your honesty," Neji grits, while Tenten dissolves into a fit of giggles.

"Anything for a picture, hey?" she gasps, in between her laughter. When the humor eventually ebbs away, they begin modeling and shooting in earnest, with all the lights on (and even an additional softbox), and Neji cracking eggs into a pan.

"What about the pictures at your desk?" he asks eventually, when they've exhausted the possible combinations of props and compositions in the kitchen. "My hair was untied in those."

Tenten purses her lips in thought. "We'll redo those shots. Keep the baseball cap on - there aren't many ways to hide one's identity in a picture, the main ones being to angle your face away, shield it with an additional object or body part, or frame the picture so as little of the face is included as possible."

The pictures at her desk are obtained easily enough, with the lack of any elaborate setup, and Tenten leads them to her living area next, where he sprawls himself along the length of the couch, losing the baseball cap in favor of an arm across his face, to shield light from his eyes. (She doesn't tell him how natural he looks lying in her couch, as if he's done it a hundred times before.)

She does one other shot of him on the couch, this time with him sitting bent over his knees, his face in his hands. The emotion in that image is palpable, and Tenten knows that the rawness of it is something that will make an impact on others.

With that in mind, she directs him to the studio next, where she draws the thick curtains over the window to eliminate sunlight, and lights his body with her softbox, angling it so that she captures the lines and contours of his form. Neji is visibly impressed when she shows him the images, an abstract compilation of light and shadow, and again, when she changes the angles of her light source, so that the pictures are washed in black, with the silhouette of his body forming simple, orange lines on the inky canvas.

"What will you be doing with these pictures?" Neji asks suddenly, and Tenten doesn't look up from framing her next shot, including enough of his abdomen and hair so the image is just the right amount of sensuality, without turning explicit. (She has explicit studies of him, too, though she's only viewing her images with a photographer's eye right now.)

"I haven't decided," she tells him absently, clicking and moving along his body to capture a different image. "Though I plan to have a gallery exhibition one of these days."

"Really?" His tone conveys interest, something Tenten quietly appreciates. "I would be interested in attending one of your shows."

"Thanks," she says, a little embarrassed. Her eyes wander along the inside of his elbow, and she spots a little tattooed 'X' that she hasn't noticed before. "What's that?" Tenten asks, before she can stop herself.

He follows the direction of her gaze, and she almost misses the way his lips press into a thin line. Neji seems to mull over information she isn't privy to for moments, before he finally yields, "It is a brand."

"A brand?" Tenten repeats, staring between him and the faint green ink on his skin. "You mean, like marks they put on slaves?"

His pale eyes dart towards hers. The gravity in his expression does not escape her. "Essentially, yes."

"Why- How...?" She gapes at Neji, unable to comprehend how anyone could put that on him, when he's almost royalty with his heritage and family name.

"I belong to the branch family of the Hyuuga clan," he tells her, a tint of bitterness lacing his words. Tenten is torn between setting her camera down, and taking a picture of that very tattoo. "We were born to serve the main family, and yield to them whenever there is a clash of interest."

She winces in sympathy. "I had no idea that such a thing still exists in this day and age."

"It does," he answers blandly, and she watches as all traces of resentment are carefully tucked away, out of sight. "I would appreciate it if you removed this tattoo from the images."

"I will," she promises, and pats him lightly on the arm. It strikes her that he and she are almost completely strangers, still, acquaintances at best, yet they're sitting in a little sphere of light in her apartment, with him stark naked and spilling dark family secrets, and her capturing bits and pieces of him, with his defenses down. Tenten comforts herself with the knowledge that they aren't aiming to hurt each other, at the very least. "Is that why you play the piano?"

Neji studies her for another long moment, and eventually yields, "Yes. You could call it an escape."

"You're very good at it," Tenten tells him, an easy smile tugging on her lips. "I can see why the rich would pay through their noses for one of your concerts."

"Want tickets?" he offers, and smirks when her face lights up.

"You bet!" she exclaims, almost leaping from her seat. Free tickets to concerts like that? Who wouldn't want them?

"I'll make sure to reserve some for you," he starts, though there's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. "Providing that you vote for my party."

"Jerk!" Tenten punches his arm, and grins at him. "I didn't know you had a sense of humor, Mr Serious Face."

"Who said I was joking?" Neji smirks at her, and she rolls her eyes.

"Corrupted twit," Tenten mutters beneath her breath-

"I heard that," he says in warning, and narrows his eyes. "Surely you aren't so childish, Ms Tenten."

"You're the childish one," she retorts, and makes to stand, since she's already got her fill of pictures of him. "Remember?"

"No." He remains in his seat and observes as she draws the curtains to allow sunlight into the room once more. "Are we done?"

"For today, yeah." Tenten tosses a grin at him over her shoulder and heads towards her computer, unlatching the camera to extract her memory card. "That is, if you're still interested in modeling for me in the future."

It seems a little too far-fetched to hope that he would agree to her whims again, especially after what she's put him through today. Tenten shrugs to herself and flops into her chair, switching her monitor back on.

"It would take some convincing, though I could possibly make time for another session," Neji tells her from his spot in the studio, where she glimpses him dressing himself out of the corner of her eye. "My time is expensive, you know."

"That's if I can bear another two hours of your insufferable arrogance," she retorts, and grins to herself. "Do you want these pictures on a CD or printed on paper?"

"Neither. I can stand not having any of those on my person, thank you," Neji replies, coming to stand right behind her. She feels his heat emanate into her skin, and is sorely tempted to lean into him, but does not. "I trust that none of these pictures have my face in them."

"You can be certain about it," Tenten assures, and swivels her seat around to look at him. "Are you leaving now?"

He nods, and she tries hard not to acknowledge the little pang in her middle. Tenten pulls herself to her feet and grabs the paper bag by the door.

"Email me if you need anything," she tells him, pulling the door open. "I promise I'll be available for coffee dates or whatever."

Neji takes the bag from her and smirks, and he looks at her for heartbeats longer than is strictly necessary. "I'll keep in touch," he tells her, and then he's stepping into the lobby, the elevator, and disappearing out of her life.

* * *

><p><em>LOL they are hilarious ;)<em>


	6. Coffee Makes The World Go Round

_Will be going to look at the fall colors this weekend, so updates are pushed forward a little to compensate - I will be posting a Cyborg!Neji oneshot this Thurs/Fri, look out for it! _

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

* * *

><p><strong><span>f2.8, ISO 100  
>Chapter 6: Coffee Makes The World Go Round<strong>

Tenten thinks she's in love.

No, she isn't. Maybe. She doesn't know anymore and has discovered that accepting more jobs than she can handle is a good way to suppress whatever she feels towards Hyuuga Neji.

Her friends could probably give her poetic definitions of love (Ino, the ever-consummate relationship maven, Sakura, the know-it-all, and Lee (poor, dear Lee), who is forever pining after Sakura, who, in turn, sees him only as a friend). Tenten is tired of not knowing what exactly she feels - but it can't be all that bad, because why would Neji be interested in her, anyway?

She contents herself with the pictures of him on her bedroom wall, the ones that she absolutely cannot show to guests, for their sheer explicitness - the harsh lines of his clavicles and the hollow at his throat, the gentle curves of his pectorals and that toned abdomen, and the V leading from his hips to his groin. Tenten allows herself to stare at pictures of his sex only at night, just before she falls asleep, and imagine what could have been. (But she knows that it won't happen anytime during a shoot, because she is too much of a professional to allow lust to cloud her mind).

He is beautiful, and he knows it. Perhaps that is what makes her wary - Hyuuga Neji has eyes sharp enough to spot her weaknesses, and a personality so aloof that she wouldn't put it past him to take what he can of her.

Even if she wants to give him all of herself.

It frightens her a little, this lack of control, so Tenten hides her emotions, and replies to his emails with the strictest business tones she can adopt. The less he knows, the better off she will be. He is all she thinks about in bed, though.

* * *

><p>Neji is the first to suggest a coffee date after the shoot.<p>

She knows that it's just politeness on his part, maybe even discussions about business opportunities, though she makes sure to dress nicely anyway, in fitting jeans and a shirt with a neckline dipping a little into her cleavage. The trusty camera follows her to the coffee shop (with a versatile zoom lens for both near and distant objects), because which photographer can bear leaving home without a camera?

He is already seated at a table by the window when she steps in, though she's quick to note that he hasn't got a drink for himself yet. The collared T-shirt and black jeans he wears are something she does a double-take at - it hasn't occurred to her that part of his wardrobe comprises of casual attire. Waves upon waves of aroma slide around her, seeping into her hair and clothes.

"Hey," Tenten greets, settling into the chair across from him. Neji tucks his phone away. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Not particularly," he returns, pale eyes coasting down her top, before returning to her face. She rolls her eyes at his not-quite-discreet ogling.

"How have you been? I haven't heard from you in weeks," Tenten tells him, glancing at the short queue in front of the counter. "I'll get the drinks - what would you like?"

"I believe I was waiting for a response from you," he tells her archly, raising a brow. Tenten remembers her deliberate attempt to stop talking to him, and flushes. Oops. He gets to his feet before she registers his movement. "What would you like to have?"

"Um, the pumpkin spice latte, please," she blurts, catching sight of the large poster next to the menu boards. "I prefer the peppermint mocha, but that isn't in season yet."

"Sure." He leaves to join the queue, and Tenten leans back into her seat, at an angle, so both the line and the rest of the coffee shop are in view. It's a little strange to see Neji standing in line for something, because he seems rich enough that he wouldn't have to wait behind other lowly human beings (like herself) for mere consumables like coffee. He turns to look at her, and she glances away, lest he think she were staring. (Which she was, but he doesn't have to know that.) Warmth prickles on her cheeks.

"Argh!" Tenten presses the back of her cool hands to her face, to help tame her heated skin. She really doesn't need him to discover the sheer tumult of her emotions. For lack of something to occupy her mind with, she flicks her camera on, and scrolls through the recent pictures she's taken.

"Captured anything of note?" Neji's voice glides over her ears, like a lover's caress, and she snaps her head up to look at him. He has a couple of white paper cups in his hands, and sets one down in front of her.

"Not much you'd be interested in," she mumbles, setting her camera down. The paper cup radiates warmth into her palms. "Just some flowers and birds and stuff. What did you get for yourself?"

"Green tea." Neji sips carefully from his cup, looking pointedly at her over its rim, almost as if to say, _you should know this by now._

"We meet at a coffee place and you get tea?" she jests, and he smirks at her.

"Is there a reason why I should avoid having tea?" Neji sets his cup down, and watches as she pries her lid off, taking a careful sip of the melting whipped cream.

For a moment, she closes her eyes and forgets his presence, allowing the richness of the cream to permeate her mouth. Whipped cream is a luxury that she has only every so often, because it's bad for her heart, and her weight. It melts away slowly on her tongue, like the fading of an illusion, and Tenten opens her eyes to see Neji watching her intently.

She chokes on whatever's left in her mouth.

"Do you have to stare at me like that?" she sputters between bouts of disgraceful coughing.

"Is there a law prohibiting me from doing so?" he asks mildly, and she is sorely tempted to snap in the affirmative, if just to spite him.

"Maybe there should be," Tenten grumbles, wiping at her mouth with the napkin he produces from somewhere.

Neji looks at her amusedly, his lips curved in a smirk. "Anyway, I asked you here to inquire how those pictures turned out."

"They look good," Tenten muses, distracted by the thought of the framed pictures on her wall. She's already submitted a few of them to juried competitions. "Nothing identifying on them. Rendered in black and white, they're the very essence of perfection. I'd have brought some prints along if you had mentioned it in advance."

"I don't need to see them. Thanks," he tells her, pale eyes boring into hers. "Your portraits are hanging in my bedroom."

Tenten is very grateful that she isn't sipping latte at that moment, because he would have been covered with a fine spray of it otherwise. The first thought that crosses her mind is whether he looks at them right before he sleeps and- No, he doesn't, he's too proper to. Just because she fantasizes about him doesn't mean he does the same with her in mind.

"Your... bedroom?" she asks weakly, and is thankful when he explains himself.

"My family visits my apartment sometimes," Neji says stiffly. "They can be very intrusive."

She winces in understanding. "I see."

"I was also wondering..." He pauses here for a mouthful of tea. "If you had any plans for future shoots."

"You mean..." Tenten trails off, uncertain. He can't be referring to nudes, can he?

"Any similar to our most recent one," Neji clarifies, and Tenten wonders what he has in mind, in order for him to bring this up of his own accord.

"Not yet, no. I've been too busy to schedule anything like that," she tells him honestly. _All because I've been trying to forget you, thank you very much._

He blinks at her words. "I was curious about the images that would result if you placed yourself in them as well, with one other model at least."

"You mean, yourself?" Tenten asks, slyly, almost joking, though she sobers up when she realizes that he isn't smiling along with her. It will be the opportunity she'd love and hate herself for, though.

"Put that way... yes." He remains looking solemnly at her, and Tenten's stomach does flip-flops so vehemently that she thinks it might be trying to escape her torso.

"I'm pretty sure I can make time for it," she tells him faintly, and sees vividly the images that would result from such a photo shoot. Stark lines of limbs twisted together, in black and white, and silhouettes of figures, and the exploration of distances between figures...

"We do not have to do it if it upsets you," he offers quietly, and Tenten is surprised by his thoughtfulness. What else is there to him that she doesn't know about?

"I- I can only afford it as a TFP session though," she tells him, hesitant. Would he require more pictures of her in exchange?

"I am interested in the prints from such a collaboration," Neji tells her, leaning forward, his tone low. She isn't able to look away from his eyes.

"Is this an excuse to see me nude in person?" Tenten blurts suddenly, her voice hushed. She glances around quickly to see if anyone's eavesdropping on their conversation. It wouldn't be a stretch to suggest that, considering his interest in her self-portraits.

His lips quirk in a smirk. "Are you insulting my desire to produce artistic work with you?"

"No!" Heat surges into her cheeks, and Tenten looks out of the window, where cars are rolling by on the street. The one time Neji offers her the opportunity of her life, and she has to blow it by sticking her foot in her mouth. _Great job, Tenten._ "I was just curious, that's all."

She grabs her cup and downs a big mouthful of pumpkin spice latte. The beverage has cooled significantly by now, and all the whipped cream has dissolved unnoticed whilst she was distracted by their conversation. She tries to restrain her pout.

"Not a fan of cold drinks?" Neji asks, as he relaxes into his seat, sipping from his lidded cup. _At least he thought to keep the lid on,_ Tenten thinks to herself. It isn't as if the latte tastes all that bad when lukewarm, however.

"I didn't get to savor the last of my whipped cream," she tells him primly, replacing the lid on her cup, lest it lose any more heat.

"That could be used provocatively in an image," Neji suggests, his eyes lighting with mild interest. "Dispense it onto a model. Lick it off-"

_Me._

She gulps at the imagery that comes to mind, and glances out of the window again. "I- I'll keep it in mind," she stammers, her pulse racing. "Your idea has its merits."

"Are you agreeable to the next shoot, then?" he presses, and Tenten nods, fighting to restrain the exhilaration in her belly. No, she is not going to be licking anything off him. Really. Even if she can imagine how that would progress deliciously into something more.

* * *

><p><em>HA HA HA. ;) But yes, one of the main things I want to highlight in this story is the professionalism involved in art nude photo shoots. Been there, done that - the people you should be wary of are those who are more interested in sex than photographs.<em>


	7. Modeling 102 (Part I)

_Do you anticipate these updates like you anticipate a meal with bacon and cheese? ;) We're just about halfway through the story... it's going quick :o_

_To those who haven't read it yet, check out my Cyborg!Neji oneshot, _CyberneticSky: Ten Counts to Heaven_ - it's one of my favorites ;)_

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

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><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 7: Modeling 102 (Part I)<strong>

Tenten is unusually nervous on the day their scheduled shoot is to occur.

She's prepared everything they could possibly need two hours prior to the appointment (from hot water, to memory cards and batteries, to the wireless shutter setup, to snacks, and even a stashed can of whipped cream, if it ever comes to that). With little else to do but wait, she settles in front of her computer and edits images from her previous assignments, to try and get Hyuuga Neji out of her mind.

Except that he slips into her thoughts without any warning whatsoever.

She does her standard process of sharpening images and increasing their contrasts, and zooming in on faces to smoothen skin and remove blemishes, and in the middle of cloning out age spots and wrinkles, she wonders if Neji would mind seeing her less-than-perfect skin. Or the rest of her body. Her heart skips a beat.

Granted, imperfections are what make people unique from each other, and she, of all people, would know that even Hollywood stars have their hips digitally tucked and their skin airbrushed on the computer. But what she's seen of Neji has been nothing short of perfection, and she's seen all of him. (She's felt all of him too, in her mind, when night falls and she huddles alone in bed, but he doesn't need to know that.)

Besides, all he will really be seeing her as is a fellow model, anyway. She isn't obligated to look good for him, or anything of that sort.

The doorbell rings forty-five minutes before the appointment, and Tenten all but jumps. She saves her work and greets him at the door (he smells of pine and musk today), and the shiver that his intent look gives her races all the way to her toes.

"Morning," he greets. She steps back to allow him to enter.

"I wasn't expecting you this early," Tenten admits, closing the door behind him. She spends a little time looking over his pressed shirt and pants. "Were you trying to avoid traffic?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?" Neji smirks at her, and she catches him looking over her clothes.

"Are you expecting breakfast?" she teases, to distract herself from the way he's scrutinizing her, and gestures towards the living area. "Go ahead and have a seat, I'll get your tea."

"I've eaten," he tells her, and remains standing between her studio and living area. "Tea will be appreciated, however."

Tenten smiles at him, and heads over to the kitchen, where a mug and the thermos are already on the counter. He watches her as she prepares the tea - she sets the mug on the counter between them when she's done, and he murmurs his thanks.

"What do you have in mind for today?" Neji asks, when she's back in front of her desk, picking her camera up and checking it for the nth time.

"I was thinking of some studio shots, and some location ones, like in the other rooms, perhaps," she tells him, waving towards the closed doors. Her anxiety from earlier has evaporated in favor of directing the shoot, and Tenten is curious about how the pictures they do together will turn out. "The studio will be good for figure studies, and we can concentrate on compositions and poses in the other rooms."

"Which would you like to start with first?" Neji asks, taking a sip of his tea. His gaze trails over her studio and living area, and returns to her.

Tenten pauses to review the schedule she's thought up. The limited amount of space in her studio would call for pictures with them in intimate contact, and she doesn't want to start off with that, no way. "We'll do the location ones first - the living area, bedroom, and we'll revisit the kitchen."

Neji acknowledges her plan with a calm nod, so she continues, "I'm ready to begin when you are."

"Will you be undressing in the bathroom?" Neji asks, mildly, and she looks up at him in surprise. Her pulse quickens.

"I guess there isn't much of a difference where I strip, is there?" she answers wryly, grabbing the tripod and setting it in front of the living area. Tenten anchors her camera on its stand and frames the first picture, plugging her remote shutter device into one of the ports at its side.

With the camera ready, she looks pointedly away from him, and unbuttons her jeans.

It is a little thrilling to be undressing in Neji's presence, she realizes, even if he's turned away, politely, leaving her to her privacy as he mimics her motions. The rasp of her zipper is harsh in the sudden quiet of the room, and she shrugs out of her jeans and T-shirt.

"No bra?" Neji is the first to break the silence, though his tone is quiet. She snaps her head back to look at him in surprise, heat prickling over her cheeks at the thought that he was watching.

"It leaves visible lines on the skin that are a pain to remove on Photoshop," she tells him, and slips her panties off before her mind has a chance to wander. His gaze coasts brazenly over her body. "You have them from your clothes too, though I wouldn't dream of telling you to go commando for a couple of hours just for the sake of having no lines."

At her words, Neji looks down at his bare form, searching for those very lines. Tenten follows his gaze, picks out the horizontal impressions at his hips easily with a glance. "Don't worry about it," she assures, "I've edited out marks worse than that."

"You left the scar on your back in your portrait," he remarks, as quietly as before, and Tenten's eyes fly back to meet his.

"You noticed it?" she asks, awkwardly, reaching behind to trace it out of habit. It is comforting that Neji is looking at her face when he speaks to her, though she feels incredibly exposed before him (and at the back of her mind, she wonders what he thinks of her).

"I did," he answers simply, but provides no further explanation. Tenten wonders how closely he's looked at her portraits, though it doesn't really matter, because she's standing nude before him, anyway. "How did you get it?"

She hesitates at his curiosity, and blinks slowly, extracting information from the tangle of memories it originates from. He's told her about his family, after all, and she supposes that he wouldn't mind hearing a little bit about her past, either. "I slipped and fell on sharp metal years back. I was running away from home."

Neji's slender eyebrows lift in question, but he doesn't press her for details. She sees the interest in his pale eyes, however, and gives him a strained smile. "My childhood wasn't all that great."

"I suppose mine was better, caged as I was," he acknowledges, and nods towards the living area. "Where would you like me to pose?"

Tenten blinks, not having realized that they've been standing around for minutes, at least. She gives an awkward laugh and grabs her remote button and a hair tie from her desk, directing him to the couch. His ebony locks are deftly tied; she releases her own hair from its confines, losing her trademark twin buns for anonymity. "Any objection to the baseball cap again?" she asks, grabbing the accessory and waving it at him.

"I don't see why we shouldn't," he answers, so she points him towards the further end of the couch, next to the lamp in the corner. Tenten focuses the camera on him, but includes the entire couch in the picture, before clicking the remote shutter to check (again) that it works. The camera snaps a picture without her touching it at all, and she reviews the exposure and framing of the resulting image on the LCD screen. Satisfied, she heads forward, placing herself on the other side of the couch, mimicking his relaxed pose. To keep up her end of being anonymous, she turns to look at Neji, so her hair acts as a curtain over her profile, and notices that he is watching her from a crack between the baseball cap and his face. She grins at him.

The camera clicks, and she shifts, lying on her back with her toes extended towards him. The camera clicks again; Tenten smiles when an idea hits her. "Do you mind if my toes touch your face?" she asks Neji, expecting him to decline.

"Go ahead," he tells her, and she looks at him in delighted surprise, before caressing his chin with the backs of her toes, almost like a mistress toying with her slave, her back curved backwards in a sensual arch.

The shutter clicks through a variety of other poses, until Tenten isn't able to resist looking at how the pictures have turned out; she slips off the couch, padding to the back of her camera.

"These look pretty awesome," she tells Neji excitedly, when she scrolls through the images of his passive form in contrast to her bending, stretching body. He's watching her now with the brim of his cap pointing to the side (Tenten thinks he looks almost adorable like that, but saves the visual in her mind, instead of snapping a picture of him). She unclasps the camera from its tripod, and brings it over to him, showing him the series of images of them on the couch.

The corners of his lips quirk. "Not bad for a first attempt," he tells her, and Tenten feels her heart swell with pride.

"Well, it's thanks to the wireless shutter release that I got, too," she informs him, waving the remote in his direction. "It sure saves me from running back and forth between every picture."

"I can imagine," Neji agrees, studying the little black device.

"Let's try one other idea with the couch," Tenten suggests, heading back to the tripod to anchor the camera again. "It'll be just a couple of minutes at the most."

He inclines his head, and Tenten frames the picture again, before returning to the couch. This time, however, she sits on the backrest instead, so she's on a different level from Neji, and looks at him when the camera clicks.

Neji turns his head slightly when she eases closer to him, and lies down, so that the side of her frame balances along the edge of the backrest, and the wall behind acts as a support for her back.

"Face forward," she tells him softly, and tucks her head behind his, so it would appear as if her neck is extending from behind his cap in the picture. Neji complies, and the camera clicks.

Tenten has not counted on this position bringing her so close to his hair, however - the dark, silky strands tickle her nose, and she inhales, pressing closer to him.

"Do you use conditioner on your hair?" she asks, reaching up to touch his bound tresses. "It's far smoother than mine is!"

"Does it matter what I use?" Neji responds warily, and she grins at the way he skirts her question.

"You use it every day, don't you?" Tenten probes, sliding down onto the couch so she's snug beside him, stroking where his hair meets the back of his neck. She draws her fingers from the ends of his ebony tresses, to the edges of his cap. "I'm envious."

"Tenten."

At his pointed stare, she follows his gaze down to where her breasts are a hair's breadth from pressing into him, and blushes.

"Neji," she whispers in return, almost mischievous, and pulls away before he registers the confusion on his face.

* * *

><p><em>Now, does Neji tie his hair up while waiting for it to dry, or wrap it in a towel, or use a hair dryer, or...? LOL<em>


	8. Modeling 102 (Part II)

_A new chapter, yay! Was reading Caged Wolf by S. M. Reine... incredible sexual tension and sex scenes. That's an author I'd highly recommend!_

_Hoping Neji gets revived the next chapter. Otherwise, we'll have fanfiction lol. ;)_

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

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><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 8: Modeling 102 (Part II)<strong>

Tenten leads Neji to the kitchen next, where the pictures don't quite work out as she hopes, because there just isn't enough space for the two of them, while also trying to incorporate a portion of the background into the pictures. With that, they make their way towards her bedroom, which should be well-lit at this time of the day, owing to the large windows spanning an entire side of the walls.

"Do you have stories behind every song you compose?" Tenten asks suddenly, as she ushers him into her bedroom, camera and tripod in hand.

She's very glad for having tidied this room before Neji's appearance - the queen-sized bed is made, complete with simple pillows, and her nightstands are cleared of the junk that usually resides there. The room is even scented lightly with floral notes, and the floors are free of discarded clothes. Neji's gaze anchors almost immediately to the pictures of him on the wall, and Tenten flushes bright red - she's forgotten to hide those.

"Um, you haven't answered my question yet," she stutters, in a bid to distract him (he does not need to know that she's been staring a little too much at pictures of his body). Granted, there are a couple of pictures of his face, but her thoughts usually tend towards the more private parts of his physique. _Stop thinking right now, Tenten._

He turns his attention back onto her, knowing, and Tenten feels herself cringing beneath his gaze. What he's thinking of her at this moment, she doesn't want to know.

She hides her face from him with her hair, and sets the tripod next to the wall, as far back from the bed as possible, to capture the entirety of the room. The lens on the camera has been changed to a wide-angled one for this purpose, and she studies the diffused light from the window, that casts relatively soft shadows on everything.

"If you're ready, sit on the edge of the bed, closer to the windows," Tenten tells him, her composure slowly returning. She grabs and hoards all of what she can lay her hands on. Neji moves forward, according to her directions, and she takes a moment to admire the contrast of light and shadow on his profile - the details on his chest and legs are awash in light, while the curve of his back is edged in darkness. "Lean back a little, prop yourself up with your hands - that's it."

She snaps a picture of him, checks the image on her LCD screen again, then clambers onto the bed behind him, first standing with her back to the camera, with a slight angle towards the window, so that light falls on her back and fills her contours in with shadows. The camera clicks, and Tenten slowly adjusts her pose to interact with Neji's - she touches the top of his head gently with her fingers _(click)_, and then she's bending over him, ensuring that she isn't standing in his shadow at the same time _(click)_, and tipping his face up towards hers, so her hair falls over his face and shields them both _(click)_.

For a moment, Tenten freezes, when Neji's pale eyes bore into hers. She's well aware that her hands are cupping the sides of his head, and that the curtain of her hair has them closed in this tight, intimate atmosphere that she is both exhilarated at and fearful of - he hasn't given any indication as to what he thinks about his pictures on her walls, though there isn't any trace of repulsion or anger on his countenance, just calm, and eyes that seem to delve right into where she folds her secrets.

She gulps and releases him a little too quickly, though he doesn't seem the least bit offended. Tenten lowers herself onto the floor and strides over to the camera, to see how this set of images have turned out. He's watching her, catching every hint of nervous energy that slips from her composure. Is this a good idea? Really? Having Hyuuga Neji in her bedroom?

Tenten clears her throat, to help herself focus. "We'll try something different now," she tells him, figuring that he can view this set of images together with the next. "I'd like you to lie on the bed, facing up, though we can cover your face with an arm, or just by having you look away from the window."

He nods his understanding, and she lifts the tripod onto the desk in the corner of her room, adjusting it so that she sees Neji's prone form, as well as some of the carpet, wall, and bedside table. Tenten fires another test shot, before moving herself into the picture - first, curled into a fetal position on the floor, next to the bed _(click)_, and again, though this time with her feet closer to the camera _(click)_. She moves onto the nightstand next, sitting on it _(click)_, then on the bed, next to Neji _(click)_, and finally lies down beside him, on her back, so their arms barely touch _(click)_. She clambers over him next (he's still watching her over the curve of his arm) and lies on her side, almost touching him, but not quite.

"Um, do you mind if I drape my arm and leg over you?" she asks, trying hard not to think about exactly what that entails. "I was thinking of doing a couple of more intimate shots. It might get a little uncomfortable for you though-"

"Go ahead," he tells her, and she avoids his gaze and slings an arm over his chest, and a leg across his thighs. Her breasts press into his biceps. Neji is so warm, and she wants badly to splay herself all over him- Tenten sees the image perfectly in her mind - an intimate couple in the corner of the picture, with a whole lot of floor and wall and bedside table occupying the rest of the image. The camera clicks, and she pulls reluctantly away, biting on her lip.

"Just one more picture - the image I have in mind is of one person straddling another-" She flushes and looks everywhere but him, waving her hands in a desperate bid to get him to stop looking at her (because this next picture is so sensual; she will be pressed up close against him and the thought of it excites her). "Um, I can just sit on your thighs and it'll be over in five seconds-"

"Do what you need to for the image," he tells her, solemnly (she wonders if his smooth baritone would sound like that if they were in bed together). "I won't mind."

Tenten swallows hard. "Are you sure? What I have in mind would entail me sitting on your privates and-"

"Is that repulsive to you?" Neji interrupts, and she is thrown off by the direction he takes. She isn't able to decipher his steady gaze the way he reads her, and she wishes, not for the first time, that she knows what exactly he's thinking. "I'm ready when you are."

"No, it's not repulsive," Tenten tells him quickly, and places a leg on his other side.

A significant fraction of her professionalism slips when she makes contact with him (she feels a little too spread apart against him, a little too exposed, and he is soft and warm against her). Tenten ignores the way her heart is pounding and the way he's looking at her, and clicks the remote button a number of times, varying the angle of her back, tensing her shoulders to accentuate the shadows on her spine, and leaning just slightly over him, anchoring his free wrist with a hand.

There's a trace of moisture on him when she plucks herself off his hips, and Tenten flushes in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she mutters, grabbing tissues from her other nightstand. "I didn't mean to, uh, soil you."

Neji's gaze is a little more intense, a little hungry, even, though he says nothing but a word of thanks, and accepts the tissues, wiping himself off.

"The pictures," Tenten mutters, as a distraction. She grabs the tripod and lowers it onto the ground, removing the camera from its anchor. "I'm tested and STI-free, I promise."

"Duly noted," he tells her, though it doesn't seem to change his expression any. She walks over to him and scrolls through the images they've done (Neji doesn't say anything about the ones where they were intimately posed), and he nods. "Well-executed," he tells her. "I can see them hanging in an art gallery."

She grins then, glad that the awkwardness between them has melted to a trickle. "I think we'll head to the studio next."

Neji nods, and as she compacts her tripod and leads them back out to the rest of the apartment, he begins, "Some of my compositions have explanations; others, not so much."

"I remember a couple that sounded angry," she tells him, setting her tripod down in front of her studio, and turning a couple of softboxes on.

"I was... frustrated," Neji admits, walking to the stool in the middle of her studio floor.

"At the world in general?" Tenten teases, a small grin on her face. She draws the thick curtains over the window, so that only artificial light is illuminating the studio. "I can't imagine you have too much to be angry about."

"At my family," he replies neutrally, looking back at her. She nods in understanding. "I imagine you'd know what I mean."

"I... yeah." Tenten glances away from him, and plugs a cable for a strobe flash into her camera. It isn't something she's keen on talking about with him, even if he did reveal some about the skeletons in his closet. "And the happier pieces?"

If Neji noticed her reticence about her family, he's giving no indication of it. "Various reasons," Neji tells her. "You tend to inspire lighter ones."

She stares at him uncomprehendingly. How on earth is she inspiring Neji, when he barely knows anything about her? "Me? Haven't we only just met?"

"Composing is always a work-in-progress." He glances at her and shrugs, and looks away. Tenten thinks this might be the most uncomfortable she's seen him. "You're a... happy person by nature," is his feeble attempt at an explanation. "I'm not."

Tenten doesn't see how her personality would be making much of an impression on his compositions, especially when she probably doesn't mean all that much to him, anyway. "You've been thinking about me?" she teases lightly.

"Maybe," is Neji's guarded reply, and she gapes at him in surprise.

"Oh, come on now, your girlfriend's going to be jealous," she continues, in that same carefree tone. Her heart is skipping so many beats that she's probably going to collapse due to heart failure right about now.

"I don't have a girlfriend." He looks back at her again.

Tenten blinks stupidly at him. "You... don't?"

It makes sense, when she thinks about how he's requested for her nude portraits, and offered to model for her - but he is rich and famous and good-looking and-

"No," is his bland reply, and she goggles at him for way too long. How can someone like him not have a girlfriend?

* * *

><p><em>lol ;) <em>


	9. Modeling 102 (Part III)

_Okay for those of you who are licking your wounds over the last chapter or lack of info/etc, here's an early update. ;)_

_Neji will always be alive and kicking in my world._

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

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><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 9: Modeling 102 (Part III)<strong>

"Do you?" Neji asks, seeming mildly interested.

"Do I what?" Either her brain has short-circuited, or his has. Tenten is reeling from too much information, too shocking to be even rated on a scale.

"Have a boyfriend," he clarifies flatly. She thinks she's never seen him this discomfited. (And even more so than the past minutes.) "Husband. Significant other. Someone of that nature."

_Oh._

"Um, no," she tells him awkwardly, flushing. "Relationships are... too much work, you know? Too risky."

Neji looks oddly at her. Tenten remembers that they're still standing around in the buff, and directs him to pose, angling a strobe light at him. She can't believe that she's forgotten entirely about the pictures.

"Why?" Neji probes, and Tenten doesn't know if she feels more exposed in her bare body, or the way he's working himself into her secrets.

"It's... well, there's always the possibility of heartbreak, you know. People leaving you, betraying you, things like that. You can't expect them to stay and have a happily-ever-after," she blurts, and winces when she realizes that she's said too much already. Tenten busies herself with her lights, firing test shots at him. (At the back of her mind, she hears faint arguments and the splintering of crockery, the promise of a happy ending turned sour.)

Neji doesn't seem to mind the brilliant bursts of light that flash in his face; rather, he remains watching her, as if studying her features. She shifts her weight to her other foot. "Is that why you would rather hide behind your lens?" Neji asks suddenly. "So the focus isn't on you, and you can remain detached?"

He's hit the nail right on the head. Tenten flinches, and looks at the LCD screen of her camera, instead of him. "I guess."

And now, more than ever before, she feels the intensity of Neji's scrutiny on her, as if he were dissecting her apart. It's a scary notion, because if he learns too much about her, he'll know how to hurt her, too.

"What do you see?" she asks him, suddenly, when his focus becomes too much to bear. The pictures are, again, perfectly exposed on the camera now. Tenten steps away from the camera and moves the stool to a side, so he's standing alone with her against the backdrops.

"In you?" Neji smirks, and allows her to pose him with light touches to his arms. Heat feathers across her cheeks, though she doesn't answer, instead retreating to the back of her camera to ascertain that she's angled him right where she wants. "I see someone attractive."

Her pulse turns unsteady. She glances between him and the camera, and decides that the pictures will be distracting enough that it'll be fine if she poses next to him while they're having this conversation. "You must be kidding," she says half-heartedly, walking over and placing a light hand on his shoulder, their backs to the camera.

"Believe what you will," he tells her, with a sidelong glance.

"Why are you single, anyway?" Tenten returns, to shift his attention off herself. She sets his words aside and focuses on her poses. "I'm going to have to make more bodily contact with you - so while your back is in the photograph, it'll look as if you have arms and legs coming around you from behind. Is that fine?"

"Sure." His eyes follow her as she steps in front of him.

"Could you click the shutter button for me when I tell you to? My hands are going to be in full sight," she tells him, handing him the wireless shutter release.

"Tell me when," Neji responds evenly.

Tenten bites hard on her lip and pulls him into an awkward embrace - she spreads her hands on his back, one on his upper back, and one further down, and tells him to click. She shifts slightly, leaning her forehead against his collarbones, keeping a respectable distance between them-

Until he touches the small of her back with his fingertips, applying the slightest bit of pressure; an invitation to draw closer to him.

She hesitates, for just a moment, and decides that she can pull away if he displays any sign of discomfort; so Tenten gingerly presses her front into his chest, at the same time her fingers curl into the spot just between his shoulder blades, pressing indents into his skin. (Neji is so warm against her, and she tries her very best to ignore the bulge nudging at her belly.) This intimacy aggravates her already-unsteady pulse.

He is clicking away without her explicitly telling him to, though Tenten doesn't mind (more pictures to go through are better than having missed opportunities). She shifts her weight onto one foot and lifts the other, wrapping her leg around his thigh. Above her head, Neji draws a quick intake of breath. Her fingers slip lower, to his trim behind - she tells herself that this is really for the resulting pictures when she squeezes him, and the camera clicks again.

"Just a couple more concepts, and we're done for today," she tells him breathlessly, stepping away. Neji drops the wireless remote into her palm, his gaze unreadable. He follows her to the camera this time, to review the recent photos, and smirks when they land on the pictures of her grabbing at him first. "I did that for the picture," she mutters in defense, even if he hasn't said anything about it.

Tenten is satisfied with this latest series, however, and points Neji back onto the studio floor. "We're going to do something similar now - just with me facing forward, and your arm across my chest. You know, Facebook-safe."

"You typically credit the models on your Facebook pictures, though," Neji points out.

He has a point. Tenten contemplates it for a moment. "Do you have an alias you want to use?" she asks, moving forward to place herself in the picture.

"'Prodigy' works fine," he suggests, and Tenten rolls her eyes.

"Can you get any more swell-headed than that?" she asks, though she quietly admits that he is certainly one with his piano compositions.

"What about 'The Great Prodigy'?" Neji amends, still with a straight face.

She stares at him, jaw hanging. "You can't be serious."

He smirks only then. "'Ijen' should be a good choice. My name, spelled backwards."

"Fine," Tenten mutters. She doesn't want him to note how pleased she is with the final suggestion, that removes hints of even his background, though there is a little traitorous quirk to her lips. "Anyhow, the next picture."

They fall into companionable silence when Tenten directs Neji to hold his arm against her front; she's standing with her back to his chest, though it feels a little too intimate when his forearm brushes against her nipples with every breath she draws. He can probably feel her heart thundering - she faces away from the camera, and the shutter clicks.

Vaguely, Tenten wonders what Neji thinks about all of this - he hasn't had an obvious physical response to any of the poses they've done so far. Is he merely uninterested, has he suppressed his bodily responses somehow, or are his parts not quite functioning? (She sincerely hopes that it's the second option.)

"The final shot, and then we're done for the day," she announces, when they've looked at the image previews of the second set, "I would like to do a backlit picture - so all you see are our silhouettes. No hiding of faces here, I'll make sure that only our profiles are visible."

Neji gives a nod of acknowledgement, and she rearranges the strobe light, so it bounces light off the white backdrop instead. Tenten reframes the image - in this, only their faces and the tops of their chests are in the picture; all she's going to capture are facial expressions, resolved to the outlines of their heads. Neji stays still while she does the test shots; when she's satisfied with the camera settings, she steps in front of him, wireless shutter at the ready.

"This last picture has to do with our facial expressions," she tells him. "We can vary the proximity of our faces, like this."

Tenten angles herself so that she's facing him fully, and leans in, opening her mouth wide. He blinks after white light bursts around them, and the shutter clicks. To demonstrate the picture they achieved, she turns the camera's screen towards him, and shows him the image preview - two black silhouettes, his with hardly any expression, and hers with her lips and teeth pronounced against the white backdrop.

He nods, and she re-positions the camera, returning to the spot right in front of him.

"More expression this time," Tenten tells him. "Open your mouth."

Hyuuga Neji doesn't quite seem to know how to exaggerate his facial expressions, so Tenten lifts a hand to his chin, to help part his lips. There is another explosion of white light, and Tenten thinks that this new direction isn't so bad, after all. She leans in close to him, her lips angled up towards his (a flash of light), and there's a hair's breath between them - they are so close that she feels his breath on her skin (another flash).

His pale eyes are boring into her, and then his lips are against hers, warm and soft, and she barely remembers to take a picture, before his hands find their way into her hair and he's kissing her, moist lips sliding against hers. Her thumb pushes the shutter button on reflex, when he licks at the seam of her lips; her mouth parts for him and he's venturing in, hot and wet - her pulse is thumping in her ears and all she hears is the rasp of his breath; there are lips and teeth and she squeezes the wireless remote on reflex, a last time, before it slips from her grip, and she's tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, sealing their lips together while his tongue slides against hers.

He pulls her flush against him, and she barely registers the hard length pressing against her belly, grinding into him on instinct. His toned body is delectable beyond words, and she's aching and wants him in her, now, when his hands are cupping her bottom and bringing her closer yet-

_Oh, fuck._

Tenten tears away from him with a hard push, gasping, blinking rapidly to gather her senses. She can't bare to look at Neji, not right now. "That wasn't supposed to happen," she tells him breathlessly, trying to catch her breath. (Even if her body and his are in agreement that they should be on the floor right about now, tangling into a writhing mess.)

"Excuse me while I... compose myself," he mutters behind her. "The bathroom...?"

"First door on your right," she tells him, heat creeping up her neck and onto her face.

The bathroom door clicks, and Tenten buries her face in her hands in absolute mortification. That wasn't what she's supposed to do as a professional! She isn't to take advantage of her models (though a small voice tells her that the desire was mutual), and now she's gone and blown it with Neji, who... was just as involved as she was.

Not knowing what to do, Tenten draws deep, calming breaths to suppress her anxiety, and pulls her clothes on, drawing the curtains open and shutting the softbox lights off. The change of scene helps dissipate the tense atmosphere some, and she grabs her camera off the tripod, bringing it over to her desk.

She's back to her usual self when Neji emerges from the bathroom and dresses in silence.

"Look, I didn't mean for that to happen," she begins, awkwardly.

"I should take the blame for that," he tells her instead. "I stepped out of line. My apologies."

Neji is watching her when she swivels her chair around and chances a look at him. There's an apologetic wince on his face, that she mirrors.

"Why don't you get me tickets to your concert sometime, and we'll call it even," she suggests, to which the weight on his shoulders visibly lifts.

"I was going to mention that," Neji tells her, contritely. "There's one coming up next Saturday evening."

"I know," she grimaces, rubbing her arms (even if it isn't cold in there). "I tried applying for the photography job on that one but they hired someone else instead."

"Sorry to hear that," he says, though he doesn't appear to be. "I have a couple of tickets, and I could pick you up beforehand. Have an early dinner, perhaps."

"I... sure." Tenten looks warily at him, and wonders what exactly he's thinking about. If he's still as eager to get into her pants as she is towards him. "I'll get some of these pictures done and you can tell me which you want as prints over email."

"Sure." He walks over to her and extends his hand, and Tenten hastens to stand (this can't possibly be a parting handshake, can it?), though she's taken by surprise when he lifts her knuckles to his lips.

His pale gaze has some form of lasting, glue-like effect, apparently, because she's still standing and staring into space long after he bids her goodbye and sees himself out of her apartment.

* * *

><p><em>;) I wonder where this will lead ;)<em>


	10. Pumpkin spiced latte: Take II

_Happy Hump Day everyone! Just 3 more chapters to go after this... can you believe it's almost over? :o Look out for my new fic, _Elf Prince, Digivolve!_ sometime in the next week or so. _

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

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><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 10: Pumpkin spiced latte: Take II<strong>

"So why did you ask me out tonight, Tenten?" Lee asks with an easy smile, over a glass of limeade. The drink compliments his favorite emerald shirt (one in a closet full of green). "I'm glad to see that you're adjusting well since you moved out here."

She sighs heavily, and leans back into her chair, nursing her own pumpkin spice latte. (It's the next best thing to the peppermint mocha, which is still not in season yet.) "For the most part, yeah," Tenten tells her best friend, "I'm doing fine."

"What's the matter then?" Lee frowns, his dark, bushy eyebrows drawing together. He leans forward to scrutinize her (and light gleams along his shiny, black bowl-cut). "You don't look like your usual youthful self."

"Well..." Tenten begins uncertainly, her fingers wrapped around her warm paper cup, "Have you heard of that pretty famous pianist who plays, like, four times a year to rich audiences?"

"I believe so. Why? Have you met him?" Curiosity is scrawled all over Lee's features, and Tenten is glad that she's chosen to have this talk with Lee, and not her other, gossipy, girl friends. (Ino would have a field day grilling her, that's for sure).

"I'm going on a date with him this Saturday," she blurts, her words in a tumble. Faint heat scatters over her cheeks. Tenten watches Lee for a reaction, though his knowledge of her past history means that she will face no judgement from him.

His inky eyes light up. "I'm happy for you, Tenten!" he exclaims, "How did this come about?"

She attempts to hush his words (an excitable Lee is a very loud one). "I was shooting his previous concert," she tells Lee in an undertone, "Then I saw him at some rally and he asked if I could do headshots for him."

"And?" Thick black eyebrows waggle on Lee's forehead. He's still grinning, much to Tenten's discomfiture.

"So then we progressed to doing model shoots," Tenten continues, and glances out of the window at the headlights zooming down the streets. "You know, nudes."

"How did those go?" Lee leans ever closer to her, anticipation clear on his features.

"I screwed up on this last one," she admits morosely, fingering the cardboard cup-holder on her drink. "Things got a little out of hand."

"Did you-"

"We kissed. That's all there is to it," Tenten snaps. (Lee doesn't need to know the rest in excessive detail.) "Suffice it to say that it went against the principles of how a professional shoot should go."

"He's interested in you though," Lee comments, and she nods in acknowledgement. "And you're interested in him."

Tenten nods again. "I don't know what he sees in me though. Besides, I don't do this whole relationship thing. You know that."

Lee knows what exactly she's talking about. "You can't!" he gasps, a little theatrically, "You can't forsake him like you did all the other guys!"

"Well, I'm going on the date - dinner and then his concert," she assures Lee. Tenten will allow herself this much, at least. "Beyond that, I don't know."

There are only the usual sounds of orders being taken and the bustle of the coffee shop in the background, as people continue to step in for a hot drink in the cooling weather. Tenten is content to have the silence between them remain a little longer. She sips a mouthful of latte, disappointed that the whipped cream has, once again, dissolved too soon. (She and Neji never did get to use that whipped cream during their session the other day, Tenten muses.)

"What do you feel towards him?" Lee probes at length, leaning back in his seat. "You don't typically need to talk about the people you date."

He is right, and Tenten cringes at the truth in his statement. "I like him enough that there are multiple images of him on my wall," she yields, thinking about the framed photos in her apartment. "Oh gods, he saw those in my bedroom! The nude ones! And there aren't many pictures in my room at all..."

She covers her face at the memory, delayed embarrassment sinking in all over again. The attraction may be mutual, but to have those pictures declare her (not quite innocent) interest? Tenten wallows in self-pity and moans into her palms.

"Is that him?" Lee asks suddenly, and she looks up, expecting to see him browsing for information on Neji on his phone.

Instead, he's looking somewhere over her shoulder, and she turns to follow his gaze, having half a mind to lecture him on pulling pranks on her like that.

Whatever she had on the tip of her tongue withers to ashes, because there is, indeed, one Hyuuga Neji standing on the threshold of the coffee shop. In a long-sleeved shirt and pants. Scanning the place.

Tenten whips her head back so quickly that she risks whiplash. She's stunned beyond words and is probably as pale as a ghost right now. "Oh _fuck_, Lee, this can't be happening," she whispers.

Lee looks between her and the apparition by the door.

She plasters her hands over her face and mutters on repeat, "I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming."

"Tenten," comes the smooth baritone from behind her, and her shoulders tense to the brink of muscle spasms.

"I'm dreaming," she tells her palms.

"We haven't met before," Tenten hears Neji say, and Lee's chair rumbles backwards. She decides that the ignorant darkness in her hands is a good place to be. "Hyuuga Neji."

"Rock Lee," the man across from her introduces himself. "I'm Tenten's best friend," he adds cheerfully, "We were just having a chat though, would you like to join us?"

Tenten makes a mental note to punch Lee in the face later. She chances a peek from between her fingers, and finds both men standing. Lee is watching Neji, and Neji is looking at her. She snaps her fingers shut.

_Be brave, Tenten,_ a little voice says in her mind, sounding suspiciously like Lee's. _It's not like he hasn't already seen you completely nude before._

With a mutter and a deep inhalation, she pulls her hands from her face, and looks up at Neji. "Hi," she greets bravely.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," he remarks, looking between her and Lee. She wonders if he thinks Lee and herself are an item or something.

"Me neither," she replies. "I, um, I see you've introduced yourselves."

Tenten gestures between the two of them, awkwardly. Lee smiles encouragingly at her. "Um, would you like to join us?" she asks feebly, glancing around for an extra chair.

"Thanks, though I'll pass on your offer today," Neji tells them (mostly at Tenten). She shivers subconsciously when he examines her outfit. She's wearing the same shirt and jeans as the day of his visit, and she could've kicked herself for not being in something that doesn't look like she's been using the same clothes for over a week. "How are the prints?"

"Mounted and framed," Tenten informs him, to which his lips quirk.

"I'll be collecting them on Saturday - see you then," he replies evenly, and makes to turn away. "It's been a pleasant coincidence meeting you here," Neji adds, as an afterthought, and nods briefly at them.

"I bet he was stalking me," Tenten mutters to Lee when Neji has moved a sufficient distance away, joining the queue on the other side of the shop.

"It must be fate," Lee tells her solemnly. "Maybe he'll stand a better chance against your commitment issues."

"It's too soon to talk about things like that, Lee," Tenten responds breezily, casting Neji a surreptitious glance. He's looking at her, and she snatches her attention away. _Don't think about it,_ she tells herself.

"You do know that not everyone will end up like your parents did," Lee says quietly, leaning in to compensate for his lowered volume. She flashes another look at Neji, and spots him collecting his drink. Probably green tea.

"A large number of relationships end in failure though," she retorts, and is significantly distracted when Neji makes his exit from the coffee shop, paper cup in hand. "The statistics prove it."

"Maybe if you find the right person, it won't," Lee suggests, his eyes bright. He hasn't missed how her attention followed Neji's trajectory.

"Speak for yourself," Tenten grouses, and Lee winces. His crush on Sakura is always a sore topic. (It is perhaps why he's so enthusiastic about seeing her happy with someone, if only to live vicariously through her.) "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up-"

"Tell me how that date goes," Lee offers, a sly gleam in his eye, "And we'll call it even."

"I didn't know you were that crafty," she chides, wagging a finger at him. "Don't get your hopes up, you hear? It's just dinner and a concert."

"I believe you," Lee tells her, though his waggling eyebrows speak otherwise. Tenten doesn't know if she wants the date to go beyond that, because as much as she hopes for it, complicating things between herself and Neji is something that'll make her flee the instant it feels as if she's giving him more of herself than she is willing to.

* * *

><p><em>Drumroll... what's going to happen next? ;) Stay tuned.<em>


	11. Eyes wide open (Part I)

_it's time for another installment of the photographer story! ;) (To those who aren't aware of it yet, I've begun posting a new series (_Elf Prince, Digivolve!_) - check it out if you haven't already._

_Have written 175,000 words of NejiTen this year, wow. :o About 120k of those are posted so far._

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

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><p><strong><span>f2.8, ISO 100  
>Chapter 11: Eyes wide open (Part I)<strong>

When the doorbell rings, half an hour early, Tenten wonders if she should swap the pre-recorded chime for something that doesn't make her pulse race at eighty miles an hour. Something like, _I am Neji the lion, hear me roar,_ in squeaky tones. That would help ease her anxiety-aged heart.

The thought of Neji-the-lion puts a grin on her face, however, and she's feeling a little too excited to bother wiping it off when she answers the door.

"Hey," she tells Neji-the-man, who is standing in her doorway with a bouquet of lilies. He doesn't respond for a moment, instead looking over the black dress she has on, that clings to her every curve. (It's a date, after all, and she's allowed to dress pretty for once. Never mind that it's the only dress she owns.)

"Good afternoon," he greets, extending the flowers to her. Tenten stares at the wrapped, delicate plant material. "I didn't know which variety you preferred, though I hope you like them anyway."

"I prefer carnations," she blurts, and immediately wishes to take that back, or introduce her head to the wall, for how callous she sounds. "I mean, these are very lovely flowers, thank you."

Neji looks the tiniest bit hurt, a slight pulling at the corner of his lips, and Tenten hastens to invite him in, cringing at her own behavior.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, they're gorgeous and would probably look good in a photo of some sort," she blathers, moving to the kitchen to grab an empty glass. The glass is filled to half-full, and she sets the flowers in them, before placing the arrangement by the window. "I'll find some time to take a picture with them for you tomorrow - how about that?" she suggests, and is relieved when Neji's expression brightens, by the tiny increment that she's come to expect of him.

"I would like that," he cedes, and Tenten feels his gaze follow her when she returns to the living area, grabbing a paper bag by her desk.

"The prints you requested," she tells him, and watches with baited breath when he draws the framed pictures out. He's requested three of them to be framed - one of them on the couch, and two from the studio, with the silhouettes of their lips almost touching being the last of the lot. Tenten feels the familiar heat creeping up her cheeks when he pauses at that image, and she wonders if he, too, is remembering the intimacy that followed that instance in time.

Neji glances at her, smirks, and slides all three pictures back into the bag. "Thank you for these," he murmurs.

"My pleasure," Tenten replies, and winces at the connotations her words carry. She looks towards the door as a distraction, grabbing her purse (that has been modified for DSLR storage) from the desk. "Shall we head out?"

At Neji's nodded agreement, they take the elevator down; Tenten turns to him when the chime indicates that they've reached the ground level. "What's on your set list for tonight?" she asks, curious. "I've been listening to your CDs."

He looks at her intently for a moment as they walk towards the parking lot, his gaze almost measuring. Tenten feels her confidence skitter (showing interest in his music is a good thing, right?), and it isn't until they've stopped by a sleek, black sports car that her thoughts have a chance to refocus. Neji opens the passenger door for her, and Tenten slips in, admiring the newness of the dashboard and the leather of the bucket seats.

"Don't get used to that," she tells him, when he seats himself behind the steering wheel. Neji's brows lift in question. "I'm not a fan of being waited on."

"You may want to start getting used to it," he smirks, stashing the bag of prints in the backseat, and she stares awkwardly at him.

"You can't mean..." Tenten begins, hesitant.

"Do you want to attend the rest of my concerts, or not?" Neji asks, loftily, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street.

She gapes at him. "You're... such a... presumptuous jerk," Tenten bristles, lightly punching the side of his arm. Sure, she knew he could be aloof, but he could stand to be a little nicer for once! Like all the other times in her apartment.

"Only if the situation calls for it," Neji returns smoothly. She stares grouchily at him from the corner of her eye.

For a long while, there is only silence between them, save for the low purr of the engine, until Neji speaks, "Today's set list is a mix of old compositions, and new ones."

"Unpublished ones?" she asks, her interest perked. "Have you written any more since the previous concert?"

Neji flicks his gaze briefly towards her, and back onto the road. "I've written a couple."

"What inspired them?" Tenten presses, shifting in her seat to get a better view of him.

There is another long pause, before he finally answers, a little guardedly, "People, events that have happened."

"Care to share what those are?" she teases, leaning an inch closer to him. He glances at her again, but does not reply.

"Maybe after you've listened to them," Neji yields, as they pull into the parking lot of an upper-middle class restaurant. Tenten stares at the classy signage and elegant decor (stone fountains and large French windows), and feels like a fish out of water. "They are the first songs after the concert begins, and after the interval, respectively."

"I'll keep that in mind," she tells him.

There are barely any patrons in the restaurant at this non-peak hour, so Neji requests for a table by the window, and Tenten stares at the menu that has more words in French than she can understand. And no listed prices, either. She cringes inwardly.

"There aren't any prices on the menu," she whispers to Neji when the waiter has moved out of earshot.

"Haven't you been to a restaurant like this?" he asks, surprised. Tenten feels a little urge to sock him. "I'm paying, by the way."

"They're usually way out of my price range," she mutters, embarrassed at having to admit it. Not everyone comes from money like he does.

Neji inclines his head, studying her. Tenten keeps her eyes firmly on the menu, and realizes that there are little descriptions beneath the French titles, that she is able to comprehend. At length, she finally decides on a chicken dish, that sounds decent and more affordable than the rest of the listed courses. (No way is she spending more of his money than she should.)

"You've already decided?" she asks in surprise. "I haven't seen you look at your menu at all."

He gives a little shrug, glancing out of the window. "I have the same thing here every time."

Tenten tries not to goggle too much at him. (To be able to afford eating here multiple times, and not experiment with the rest of the menu?) She guesses that the meal probably costs as much as her dress, shoes and bag put together.

"When you're done worrying about the prices," Neji begins, and she tenses (how does he read her so damn easily?), "I'll suggest that we concentrate on more... pleasant matters."

"Right," Tenten answers, and wonders what 'pleasant matters' he has in mind.

"For having a loft apartment and a slew of camera equipment, you don't seem to be well-acquainted with wealth," Neji remarks, and his words are like a well-aimed shot, slow and accurate. He leans forward, folding his arms on the table.

She squirms beneath his gaze. "Well... My mentor, Tsunade, told me she was retiring in Italy, and left quite a lot of that to me."

The news had been shocking to her at first, and nary a day goes by when Tenten doesn't count her blessings, for the relative comfort she's inherited. She has a lot to thank for Tsunade, who has been almost a surrogate parent to her, providing the guidance and strength that Tenten craved.

"And... the rest of your family?" Neji probes, carefully, and Tenten is too late in catching the wince flitting across her face.

"I'd rather not talk about that," she tells him, and is quietly glad when he lays off the subject. "How much do you practice on the piano in a day?"

The waiter arrives to serve glasses of water and take their orders then (Tenten points awkwardly at her menu item, and Neji recites his from memory - she thinks he sounds sexy pronuncing French, even though all she knows is that it's just the name of a dish). Neji turns back to her when the waiter leaves. "I play for two hours a day at the minimum," he tells her.

"Is that enough?" Tenten asks (it sounds like an awfully long time to her, though she can see herself spending an equivalent amount of time on photography).

"Would spending two hours a day with your camera be enough?" he returns, though a tiny smile curves his lips when she frowns in contemplation.

"If I have a constant flow of ideas, perhaps," Tenten replies, discounting the time she spends doing freelance work, "Though photography is different from music in that sense - I don't need to do it everyday."

"What do you do on days when you aren't working on your pictures?" Neji questions suddenly, sipping from his glass of water.

Tenten tips her head to the side in consideration. "I search for more freelance jobs, and sometimes I practice at the shooting range, visit museums, things like that."

"None of those bear any similarity to each other," he observes with a smirk, and she smiles at him. "Do you have a favorite amongst the piano pieces you've listened to so far?"

She scrunches her face up then, deep in recollection. "I like them all - is that good enough an answer?"

"Fair enough," Neji tells her, and draws back a little when the waiter comes by to deposit a plate of appetizers - slices of a French baguette, cheese wedges and a little mound of tapenade.

Tenten stares at the dish, and is immediately reaching for her camera (because natural light from the window makes food look that much better). Neji waits while she pulls the dish towards herself and angles it so that light falls evenly on the critical pieces, and each selection will occupy just the right amount of space in the picture. He's still watching her amusedly when she tucks her camera away, and pushes the plate back between them.

"I should've asked before I did that," she mutters contritely, to which he dismisses the incident with a light shake of his head.

"No offense taken," he replies, and picks a slice of bread up, stacking it with cheese and tapenade. She mimics his actions and bites into the appetizer, eyes widening with delight when rich flavors burst in her mouth.

Tenten barely remembers to swallow, before she comments, "It's delicious!"

Neji merely smiles at her, and takes another bite.

It isn't long before the main dishes make their appearance - Tenten stares at the ridiculously tiny piece of fish on Neji's plate (granted, it looks beautiful, garnished with herbs and accompanied by leafy greens and a couple slices of bread). "Is that all you're having?" she blurts, and looks between him and his dinner.

He shrugs mildly, sparing a glance at his food. "I don't eat that much before a performance."

She's still staring, though her senses tell her to grab her camera and turn his plate towards her, to capture that short-lived beauty. Tenten follows her instincts with a quick "Excuse me," snaps the one perfect shot of his food, and turns his plate back. Her own chicken is similarly prepared, though it is seared to golden-brown, and surrounded with greens. She snaps a picture of this, too, before returning her attention to Neji. "Aren't you hungry though?"

"I had a long nap before picking you up," he answers, reaching for his cutlery. "It's part of my routine before a concert."

She nods. "Are we going to arrive right before the concert starts this time?" Tenten asks, teasingly.

A light frown creases his forehead. "I overslept the last time."

"You overslept?" she echos, and stares at him, slowly starting on her own food. She can't imagine Neji messing up on anything. "Why?"

"I was especially busy with work that week," Neji shrugs, finally slicing into his fish.

"That politician stuff is really draining, huh?" Tenten surmises, to which he nods, but says nothing. "What would you be doing if you were a full-time musician?"

"Play for orchestras, events, fill in for people, and the like," he tells her solemnly. "It's the path I would take if I weren't tied to everything else."

She acknowledges his words with a quiet nod, and for minutes, they make their way slowly through the food, with only background music and the light clinking of cutlery resounding around them.

"About the other day," Neji begins, when he's done with his fish and picked through the greens, "Were you on a date with Lee?"

* * *

><p><em>Neji is so fun to write when he's jealous or awkward LOL ;)<em>


	12. Eyes wide open (Part II)

_Hello everyone! Figured I'd be nice and update while on the trip. ;) Just had my wedding ceremony yesterday... glad to have that over and done with. ;) Have a super-long second-to-last chapter!_

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

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><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 12: Eyes wide open (Part II)<strong>

Tenten almost chokes on her food. Neji stares in concern as she coughs a little and swallows, and downs a large mouthful of water to calm herself. "No, Lee and I were just catching up," she clarifies (if only Neji knew what they were talking about).

"There's nothing going on between the two of you?" he asks - she thinks she sees a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"No, there isn't. I've told you, I don't do relationships," Tenten explains, and relief flashes across his face. Neji can't be thinking of that between them, can he? He may be handsome and delectable and she may have the tiniest crush on him - but they aren't going anywhere, no way. She doesn't want to be hurt again. "Look, I don't think I'll ever be ready for a relationship."

Neji looks as if he's on the verge of saying something, but refrains from doing so. Tenten tries her best to not mind the way he stares as she finishes the last of her chicken, and wipes her mouth primly when she's done. The waiter comes by to inquire about dessert, to which Neji glances at her, and she shakes her head.

"That's enough, thank you," Tenten tells him.

It's not long before they're on the move again, this time to the same concert hall as before. The place is warmly-lit, and Tenten remembers the reflective floors and papered walls of the foyer.

"Am I allowed to follow you in?" she whispers as he strides past the double doors for the audience.

Neji angles a sidelong glance at her and nods. "Sure."

He pauses at a nondescript door and turns the knob on it, allowing her to enter before him. There is a bustle of activity in the large space beyond; stage hands hurry about, testing the lights and audio equipment. A few turn to look when they make their presence known.

"She's with me," Neji tells the security personnel by the door, and hands the man his driver's license as proof of identity. The burly man checks it off a clipboard, nods, and hands it back.

"I hope you'll enjoy the concert," Neji murmurs, stopping by a dressing room to check his appearance in a mirror.

"I don't see why I wouldn't," she tells him with a smile. His lips twitch in response.

The official photographer for the concert isn't here yet, Tenten notes (they're an hour early today), so she stands around awkwardly while Neji makes his way to the grand piano in the middle of the stage. He stretches his fingers, arms, neck and back, and begins to play.

For long moments, Tenten allows her eyes to remain closed, as Neji's lilting melodies ebb and flow around her - she's reminded of busy city streets and peaceful mountains, glorious sunsets and crashing waves.

When she opens her eyes again, the yellow wash of the stage lights have faded to just a spotlight surrounding him and the piano. Tenten hasn't realized how much she's missed seeing the play of light and shadow on his face until now, and she's reaching for her camera before she knows it, adjusting her settings to fit the low-light conditions. Neji does not seem to be aware of her presence at all, with his eyes closed, as she steps closer to him and photographs him from different angles - these pictures are for her, though Tenten hasn't quite decided what she'll be doing with them yet.

She is across the piano from Neji when his eyes open abruptly; for loud heartbeats, he's staring right at her, and she feels a little naked, with her camera lowered just slightly in front of her face. His notes slow to a stop, and his lips part.

"I'll play the two new compositions for you now," Neji tells her quietly, and Tenten nods, tucking her camera away. She's got all the shots she wants of him, anyway.

She walks over to the piano and leans her hip lightly against it - Neji glances at her, and begins to play, eyes shut, fingers flitting over the keyboard. The first song begins slowly, lightly, and Tenten is reminded of a light-footed chase, quick in its evasiveness, though there are parts in which the melody slows down, as if contemplating, before it speeds up again, lower and a little more serious than before - a continuation of the previous chase, in a different setting. The piece ends with a quiet resolution, as if the chase was over, and all are at peace.

Tenten is about to say something when the notes slow into silence, and he glances briefly at her, as if indicating that the first piece has ended, when Neji begins playing anew - this next song is a little more mellow, sensual, even. She glances at him, though he does not respond, and her throat goes dry when the music is almost suggestive, and she sees, very clearly in her mind, him and her tangled together, their movements echoing the pace of his music.

She is still imagining those illicit scenes of him and her, superimposed over that of Neji and his piano, when he stops playing, and looks up at her. "Well?" he asks.

"Wow," Tenten breathes, hoping her racing pulse doesn't show. "I'm- It's vivid," she tells him. "The first one is like a chase, and the second, well, it's almost intimate."

He smirks at the telling heat on her cheeks, but says nothing in response, instead moving on to the other pieces on his set list. The official photographer shows up a few minutes before the usher does, and Tenten retreats to the seats below-stage to wait. Neji sends her an inscrutable look, and heads backstage.

_That was beautiful,_ she texts Neji, _are you nervous?_

_Not usually,_ comes his reply a minute later.

_What do you do backstage?_ is her next question, and she smiles when she imagines Neji looking at her messages on his phone - this communication is as if they aren't separated by any barriers between them.

_I paint,_ is his first message, and Tenten barely has time to stare, before he follows it up with, _No, I meditate._

_I imagine you'd look absolutely fantastic covered in paint while playing the piano,_ she tells him, and it feels as if her face is about to split with the huge grin on her lips.

_Only in paint?_ Neji asks, and Tenten stares at her phone for long moments, unsure if he's jesting. (The image he's conjured in her mind is brilliant, though it would be a pain to capture that with photography, with the cleaning that paint requires to remove.)

_Are you flirting with me?_ she returns, complete with a winking emoticon, and hesitates for a moment, before hitting Send.

_Maybe. Excuse me while I meditate,_ Neji replies, and does not follow that up with additional messages. Tenten chews on her lip, her heart fluttering. He couldn't possibly mean that, could he? Perhaps all he saw it from was an artistic viewpoint.

She resorts to scrolling through her news feed for the remainder of the time, as the audience files in slowly, as well as looking at the new pictures of Neji she's captured. (Tenten remembers the promise she's made him, to take a picture of herself with the lilies he's brought earlier, and wonders what kind of image it should be.)

Neji is a pillar of calm when he returns to the piano half an hour later, before a shadowed, expectant audience. (Tenten tries to silence the animal leaping around in her chest.) He takes his seat and begins to play after some moments. As promised, the first song is one of his new compositions, and Tenten finds herself being led through an imaginary chase all over again; the following pieces are just as captivating, and she realizes that as private Neji is about his feelings, they emerge somehow through his music, if she knows to listen out for them.

And as much as it scares her, Tenten thinks she wants to know more about him, what inspired him to write these pieces, what his motivations are, and the little intricacies of his mind that make Hyuuga Neji who he is.

Neji never once looks towards the audience during the concert, and when the time comes for the interval, he heads backstage again, though there are no messages from him when Tenten checks her phone (multiple times). She supposes that he's gone back into meditating, and resigns herself to waiting for the second half of his performance.

Her heart gives another flutter when he makes his appearance after the interval (Tenten thinks he might have looked in her direction for a moment), and she's thrown into the sultry tones of the second new piece. She chews on her lip - does Neji have any idea what he's sending through her mind? The urge to crawl beneath his skin is sharper than ever (and it is probably due to the hormonal cycle of her body), and Tenten squirms in her seat, eventually suppressing those unnecessary desires.

The concert and its encores are over too quickly (or too slowly, perhaps), and Neji lingers at the piano while the audience slowly dissipates from the hall. When there are but a few stragglers left, he walks to the edge of the stage and lowers himself onto the carpeted floor beneath, so that he now stands level with her.

"I thoroughly enjoyed myself," Tenten gushes, meaning every single word of it, "Thank you for giving me this opportunity-"

"Would you like to listen to more?" Neji interrupts, smoothly, and she gapes at him. (His lilac eyes are bright, and it feels as if he's still full of restless energy that has not quite vanished with the ending of the concert.)

"You mean..." she trails off, wondering what Neji could possibly have in mind.

"I could show you some of the pieces I've been working on," he explains, leading them past the sea of plush seats, and out of the hall. "I have a piano at home that will suffice."

"I'd love to!" Tenten exclaims. A visit to Neji's home? She would be out of her mind to refuse that.

They're back in his car and driving along the city streets when Neji comments, "There wasn't a text from you during the interval."

She wonders if she's imagined the slight pout to his tone. Coming from Neji? Tenten dismisses the notion as unlikely, and settles for an uncomfortable "I assumed you were meditating again, sorry."

"I did after I checked my phone," he informs her. Tenten catches his sidelong glance and grins.

"Invite me to your next concert, and I promise I'll text you nonstop," she tells him cheekily.

"I don't see why not," Neji answers, smirking. He pulls in to a parking lot, and Tenten stares at the building before them in quiet awe.

"This looks like an expensive place," she says, more to herself than Neji.

He shrugs. "It's home to me."

Even the lobby and elevator they step into ooze of wealth - sparkling floors and flower arrangements lead to a couple of elevators; Neji inserts a key into a nondescript keyhole above the eleventh floor button, and the doors slide shut. Tenten is too busy looking at the mirrored ceiling and marble floors, and the polished mahogany walls, until the doors slide open with a chime, and they step into a little foyer with double doors, that open into the largest apartment she's ever seen.

"You live in a _penthouse_?" she whispers, her eyes round with shock.

Neji deposits the paper bag of prints to a side of the spacious living room (the design is minimalist, similar to her own style, though he seems to favor neutral colors, instead of her earthy shades) and turns to her. "Would you like a drink?"

"Um, water is fine," she tells him numbly, and follows him to the kitchen, complete with an island counter, double ovens, and a large fridge. "Do you even cook?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he responds, sending her a flat look. She smiles sheepishly at him. Neji pulls two wineglasses from an overhead redwood cabinet and dispenses water from the fridge into one of them - he draws a bottle of wine from the fridge, and pours himself a glass. "Have a seat," he tells her, "The piano's over here."

Tenten accepts her glass and follows him to another side of the apartment, where she begins goggling all over again - set in one corner of the place, against white walls and floor-length windows covered by sheer ivory curtains, is a grand piano, not unlike the one he's just played on in the concert hall.

"Wow," is all she can say (and at the back of her mind, she knows just how wonderful this place is as a setting for photography). "This is insane."

Neji glances at her and shrugs. He lifts the polished wood cover from the keyboard and settles on the stool, straight-backed as ever, and tests the chords on the piano. "You liked the new compositions I played," he remarks plainly.

"I loved them. Would you like me to wax lyrical on them before we move on to your works-in-progress?" she teases, settling on a nearby couch. He smirks and begins to play a different tune from the ones she's heard.

This next piece is hesitant, almost cautious, yet intense at the same time, and Tenten thinks it reminds her of Neji himself, the way he acts and speaks. She watches him as he plays (and he is, in turn, looking at her), quietly, so the notes are a little more intimate between them.

He stops abruptly then (the silence rings loudly in the absence of his music) and blinks, lifting a shoulder. "That's as far as I've gotten on that one."

"It sounds like piece about you," she tells him honestly, drinking from her glass. "It's careful and quiet, like you are."

Neji studies her for a moment, before he nods. "I had that in mind, yes."

Tenten grins at his admission. "It didn't sound like the rest of your music."

"How much of my work have you heard?" he asks, curious. Neji takes the wineglass he's set on top of the piano and swirls the burgundy liquid lightly, before taking a sip.

"Whatever I could get my hands on," she answers, her eyes skittering away from his in embarrassment. "I'm fascinated by it - music isn't my strong suit."

He smiles then, a little, quiet smile that she almost misses. "Here's another one I've made some progress on."

The next composition is different, soothing, like the wind in the prairie, the howling gales in the mountains, and Tenten listens, enchanted, until he stops abruptly again, and looks at her.

"I like it," she comments, awed. "It'll be beautiful when you've finished it, I'm sure."

Neji smiles again, and gets to his feet. "Do you mind if I change into something more comfortable?"

"No, go ahead," she answers, and leans back into the couch when Neji leaves. The apartment is beautiful; there are so many pictures she can take here that the mere thought sends her mind reeling.

Tenten finds her attention returning to the piano - they would not be using any paint on that, that's for sure (the memory of Neji's suggestion brings a grin to her lips), though she can imagine a picture with a nude female lying on the piano stool with her back arched, head tipped backwards, off the stool, hair spilling onto the floor...

And how else would she obtain that picture, than to model for herself, as she's done before? Tenten is fishing her camera out and balancing it on the backrest of a couch that faces the piano directly, adjusting its framing and settings, and testing the exposures. When that is done, she shrugs out of her shoes, dress (it falls away easily enough) and underwear, and pulls the hair ties keeping her twin buns intact, shaking her hair loose.

The timer is set for ten seconds; she counts the seconds under her breath and hurries over to the piano stool, lying back gingerly on it, arching her back, and tipping her head off the stool, so that her hair tumbles onto the floor. She barely remembers to position her legs - one bent in a tiptoe, and the other curving towards the floor - when the shutter clicks, and she rolls off the stool, hurrying back to check the resulting image.

This goes on for another two tries, each attempt seeing improvements in her pose, until the camera clicks again, and she turns, finding Neji standing by an open door, quietly watching her.

"Um, hi?" she greets, awkwardly (because him seeing her in the nude previously, and him seeing her nude, on his piano bench, in his apartment, are two very different things entirely). "I saw an image in my mind that was too good to miss," she explains, easing off the stool. "Here, I'll show you what I've got."

His eyes are intent as they follow her trajectory towards him. Tenten grabs the camera off his couch and pads over, barely noticing that he's in a shirt and loose pants now. She scrolls through the image previews, stopping next to him with the final self-portrait she's captured. "You think?" she asks, grinning with pride.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, though he doesn't spend as much time looking at her camera as he does her face, and she feels a little too bare next to him, suddenly. Tenten wonders what it'll feel like to be pressed up against him, with just his clothes between them, and swiftly chases those thoughts out of her mind. "Would you like a tour of the apartment? You might be interested in returning for a longer photo shoot," Neji suggests.

"Sure," she tells him breathlessly, and he steps away. Tenten spares her clothes a glance, and figures that she doesn't need them, anyway. Neji raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he leads her past the kitchen and living area (she thinks the elegant couches could use some color), to a study (polished mahogany desk, computer, and some paperwork filed in sleek cabinets), and his bedroom.

"That's a huge bed," Tenten breathes, when they pause by his equally-minimalist sleeping quarters. The king-sized bed is decked in white, complete with cast-iron bed frames. It would be perfect for pictures, she muses to herself.

"It tends to seem a little too large," Neji tells her dryly.

"Wh- Oh." Tenten is sorely tempted to hit herself for the slip, but refrains from doing so. She doesn't ask if the bed is the perfect size sometimes (even though she's curious about whether he brings guests home to share it, and whether she's just another such person).

"Don't get me wrong - I'm not propositioning you," he's quick to tell her, and Tenten feels a sudden heaviness in her stomach - is it disappointment?

"Oh," she says again. "I- I understand. I wouldn't expect you to."

His gaze flicks towards her then, and her breath catches. Tenten gets the distinct feeling that he's measuring her and weighing his decisions and words. "Why not?" he asks eventually, his voice a quiet murmur.

Neji turns towards her then, and steps closer, so that he is mere inches away from her. Tenten is very aware that he's allowing her space to escape, though it feels as if she's rooted to the ground, frozen where his exhalation caresses her skin.

"You're aware of this," Neji begins, and touches her hip with his fingertips. She inhales sharply, but doesn't move away, even when his fingers inch upwards, to her waist. Tenten gulps, and allows him to slip the camera from her hand, resting it gently on the dresser by the door.

She doesn't move, either, when he leans in and presses a hesitant kiss to her jaw, and his hands reach up to hold her hips, pulling her closer to him. Her thoughts are tangling and she doesn't really want to think anymore, when Neji's lips trail down to her chin, and up, to meet hers in a kiss.

Tenten responds then, when he nudges her mouth with his, and she parts her lips for him. It feels as if she already knows him intimately, when he presses her to the door frame and urges her mouth open, sliding his tongue hotly against hers. He tastes of wine, and is completely intoxicating. She can't breathe - forgets to breathe - when his palms slide along her sides and all she knows are his lips and tongue, and the way he nibbles on her lip and explores her mouth, slowly. Neji's fingers wind into her hair, sifting through it and anchoring her further against him.

Her grasp on time slips - Tenten finds herself gasping for breath when he kisses down her throat, sucking lightly on her skin, and pulls herself flush against him (he is hard against her belly, beneath his clothes, and she grinds against him). Neji groans. She is barely aware of when he scoops her up against him and walks over to the bed, depositing her gently on the mattress, because her fingers are slipping beneath his shirt and trailing across his chest, nails dragging along his skin-

Neji pauses for a moment, in the middle of undoing his pants, and looks at her; Tenten understands, somehow, that this is his way of asking if she's certain with where this is headed. She bites her lip, her chest heaving with desire, and grabs at the waistband of his pants, reaching down to stroke him through all that material. He moans then, and yields to her (and she acknowledges that he knows, and she knows, that this is a long time in coming).

She watches as he rids himself of his clothes, and squirms when he crawls over her, dipping his chin - his lips graze hers, tentatively, and she winds her fingers in his hair, luxuriating in its silkiness. Tenten doesn't know if he's consuming her, or if it's the other way around, when his mouth slants over hers hungrily, and she wraps her legs around his waist, so he's pressing firmly against her wet flesh. Neji groans against her lips, thrusts against her, and she gasps, reaching between them to hold him.

The look he sends her is searing - he pulls away from her grasp and trails his lips down her torso, first sucking exquisitely on her nipples, before slipping his hand down and touching her aching flesh with his fingers, slowly, firmly, as if she were his precious piano, and he's tuning her desire to fever-pitch.

She stops thinking then (or maybe she already has the moment they paused at the threshold of his bedroom), and gives herself fully to him.

* * *

><p>Neji is curled up around her when Tenten recovers her ability to think; he's panting, she's panting, and the tension in their bodies is just slowly dissipating, their desires finally fulfilled. And it was better than she'd ever imagined.<p>

"I did not have this in mind," he mumbles into her shoulder, his fingers trailing lazily along the curve of her waist.

"Neither did I," she tells him, vaguely wondering where the're headed from here. It is dark in the bedroom now, with the only light shining through the doorway, and she feels surprisingly languid, comfortable. Neji's warmth is something she can get drunk on, Tenten admits to herself.

"Would you believe it if I told you that you mean more to me than you should?" Neji continues, as his fingers brush across her belly. He isn't looking at her, which Tenten is very glad for, because her breath is quite suddenly frozen in her throat, and she doesn't know what to think. "Considering how little we know of each other?"

"I... Maybe," she answers, uncertain, and that little whisper of fear is slowly making itself known again, deep in her chest.

"You asked what inspired those songs I played today," are Neji's next words, spoken quietly. Tenten feels her sense of foreboding increase, and stills her body, so she doesn't bolt from his arms. "It was you."

And she can't breathe, doesn't know what to say, or think. All Tenten is aware of is the heaviness in her stomach, that Neji wants more than she is willing to give. She murmurs words to him that she doesn't remember, and waits painfully for the minutes and seconds to pass, until she's certain that his breathing has evened out.

She's slipping out of the room and grabbing her camera, pulling her clothes on with her heart beating so loud in her ears that it would probably awaken Neji. Tenten glances around to make sure that she hasn't left anything behind, and then she's hitting the elevator button, breathing a sigh of relief when the doors shut behind her and it descends without needing a key.

The doorman in the posh lobby smiles genially at her - he's an older man, tall, clean-shaven, with salt-and-pepper hair and kindly eyes. "Good evening, Miss. Shall I call you a cab?"

Tenten stops short in her hurry to flee, and looks at him, considering her options. It's a pain to get home in the city without a cab, and altogether a good idea not having to hail one herself. "Okay," she tells him shakily.

"Shall I put it on Mr Hyuuga's tab?" he continues, and she stares at him, wondering how he knew whom she'd visited. (Then she realizes that she's skimmed over looking at the staff in the lobby when they'd entered, while their entrance would probably have been noted.)

"I, um, okay," she stutters, gathering her frayed nerves. Tenten draws her bag closer to herself.

"You needn't worry about it," the doorman speaks again (she notes that his name is Ichiraku, from his name tag), "This happens all the time."

"You mean, with Neji- uh, Mr Hyuuga?" Tenten blurts. Her heart sinks. She should've known that Neji wouldn't have second thoughts about bringing another woman home with him-

"No," Ichiraku clarifies, "Not with Mr Hyuuga - I wouldn't know anything about that. I was referring to other occupants of the building."

_Oh._

Tenten chews on her lip. So Neji did really mean what he said about his interest in her. The urge to escape rears its head anew, and she waits impatiently while Ichiraku dials the cab company. The old man must've caught her panicked, frequent glances at the elevator lobby, because he asks, not unkindly, "Is something the matter?"

"I- Well, what kind of person is Ne- Mr Hyuuga?" Tenten asks, hesitantly. Does she really want to know more about him?

"I'm afraid it's not in my position to reveal more," he admits, with a small bow, and she nods in understanding. At length, Tenten locates a bench that's tucked out of sight from the elevator lobby, and proceeds to wait there instead. She fiddles with her phone, half-expecting it to buzz with a message, but it doesn't, and Ichiraku gives her a polite nod when the cab pulls up in front of the building.

With a heavy sigh, Tenten strides out of the double glass doors, hoping that all she's leaving behind isn't coming back to haunt her later.

* * *

><p><em>Finally, huh? ;) And there goes everything!<em>

_Reviews are always appreciated (esp as some sort of a wedding gift, hah!) ;) _If you guys aren't aware of it yet, I've got an elf!Neji fic up and running - R&R that too. ;) AND R&R Syndicate by Tanya Lilac... that is so good, it's like a drug omg.__


	13. Better in black and white

_And... the final chapter. Thanks for all your wonderful support!_

_Naruto and its characters do not belong to me._

* * *

><p><span><strong>f2.8, ISO 100**  
><strong>Chapter 13: Better in black and white<strong>

"What do you mean, you left him?" Lee asks, aghast. He's slurping from yet another limeade, and she's nursing her usual pumpkin spiced latte (though Tenten think she'll get another drink the next time - the spices are starting to wear on her nerves).

"Well, he fell asleep," Tenten explains awkwardly, waving her fingers in the air to try and bring her point across.

"How can he fall asleep in your youthful presence?!" her best friend exclaims, and Tenten cringes. She doesn't want to spell out the intimacy she and Neji shared, though with the way Lee is going, the whole coffee shop is going to know about their illicit evening before the end of the day. Probably before she dies of embarrassment.

"We were doing intimate strenuous activities, Lee!" she hisses, her cheeks aflame. "Now quit going on about that, or I'll shove my fist down your throat!"

"Oh." Lee has the sense to look a little remorseful, and Tenten feels a little sorry for him.

"Look, my point is, he wants more than I can give," she elaborates patiently. Neji has sent her a handful of messages over the past few days, to which she hasn't responded. She did, however, keep her promise with the flowers - a simple picture of a string of lilies hanging over her bare back, like a garland, posted on her Facebook page, meant that he should have seen that picture. (Oh, who is she kidding - he was one of the first few to 'like' that photo.)

"You aren't going to let go of your scars like that, Tenten," Lee tells her solemnly. "If you refuse to give anyone a chance, then the hurt your parents have inflicted on you will always influence your life decisions, as much as you're trying to escape from it."

She hates how he can dispense so much wisdom sometimes.

Tenten sighs heavily into her paper cup; the surface of the latte ripples beneath her breath. "I know that, Lee. It's just... scary. Plus, he's rich and famous and all that. I don't belong in that world."

"We're human - we adapt," he counters, flashing a thumbs-up. "Besides, dating Neji doesn't mean you need to be part of that lifestyle. Leave that 'til marriage." Lee winks.

"Since when did you become the relationship guru?" Tenten mutters, looking sourly at him. "You may as well help yourself with all that advice."

Lee avoids that barb this time. He grins at her, and confides, secretively, "There may be someone else that I have my sights on now."

"Oh? Who is it?" Tenten perks up, glad that the focus of the conversation is no longer on her. "Do I know her?"

"Just someone at work that I met briefly," Lee tells her, narrowing his eyes slyly. "I'll give you tidbits if it progresses into more."

"Hey! That's not fair!" she protests, leaning forwards on the table. "I've been telling you all these details-"

"Patience, young padawan," Lee says, purposefully lowering his pitch. He scrunches his face up to mimic that of an old man, and Tenten bursts out laughing. "Anyway, I saw that you're going to have an exhibition!"

"An art show, yes," she clarifies. "It won't be for some time yet - it's scheduled to open next month, and I'm pretty excited!"

"You'll be showing the pictures you took of Neji?" Lee probes, and Tenten sobers up a little.

"Yeah. He did sign a release for them, and besides, all of the pictures are anonymous, anyway," Tenten divulges. She's fortunate enough to have scored an art show so soon after beginning her search for a gallery, though she admits to herself that those pictures of Neji are nothing short of breathtaking. "I'd love if you could drop by sometime for the show."

"Anything for you, Tenten," Lee grins, and leans in close, whispering, "Does he know about it?"

"I... guess he does." She winces. There was no message to inform Neji that his pictures will be up for show (and perhaps they'd be fortunate enough that someone buys a couple of them). All the indications she gave were the Facebook posts and event that she's created to inform her friends and followers of the event, though she hasn't invited Neji to it. He hasn't given any sign of whether he'd be attending the show, either.

Tenten cringes to imagine what he must be thinking of her now, with her walking out on him, and not replying to any of his messages. At least his interest in her would probably die out sooner or later, and they can proceed to live life as before. She hopes. The pictures of him are still hanging up in her room.

"Earth to Tenten," Lee whispers, waving a hand in front of her face.

Her attention snaps back to him. "Huh?"

"Are you worried that he'll show up?" Lee asks, curious. He reaches over and steals a sip of her latte, making a face. "I don't like pumpkin spice."

"You knew it was pumpkin spice, Lee," Tenten chides, pulling her cup back to herself. "I don't know if he's going to show up... I haven't talked to him since... you know. It's going to be awkward if he does."

She shudders, and Lee looks at her with sympathy. "What will come, will come, Tenten," he advises, "Sometimes all we can do is take each day as it rises gloriously on us."

She exhales heavily, acknowledging the truth to his words.

* * *

><p>Tenten steps back from the diminishing crowd and studies how they seem to cluster around certain photographs over others. The art show has been going on for a week now, and she has another few days before it's scheduled to end. Two of the prints have already been bought, though she's waiting 'til the end of the show before she ships them to their new owners.<p>

It has been bittersweet holding this art show - setting up and being surrounded by all these pictures of Neji, yet knowing that she doesn't quite know where she stands with him, whether he's mad at her, or if he's just given up. (He hasn't visited at all, and Tenten hopes that he'll continue to stay away - she doesn't need any other reminders of the strong emotions she still harbors towards him.)

The gallery itself is small, about the size of a very large living room, perhaps. She's arranged various photos of him along the walls, and set a few up on easels in the middle of the room. The ones that have drawn the most attention have been those of him on the couch, hands on his face, and the bodyscapes, covered in more shadow than light. She smiles at the memories of the baseball cap - it is not a look that suits his character, though the diversion sure serves to hide his identity.

Tenten wanders along the far side of the gallery, admiring one of the bodyscapes of him that have remained among her favorites - stark lines lighting his hips and abdomen, the careful dip of his navel, and the V that leads her attention to his groin - this image is one of the two that have been bought, and she thinks she'll be a little sad to see it leave.

"Most would find it offensive that you invited everyone but the model to your show," says a sooth baritone behind her.

Her heart lodges itself in her throat, and she whirls around-

Neji is standing before her, his hands in his pockets, looking calmly at her as if she hasn't been trying to avoid him for the past few weeks.

"I, um," Tenten stutters. She glances at his pale eyes and is unable to hold his gaze, so she looks down at his suit instead, and beyond him, to the rest of the visitors, who are slowly drifting towards the door. "I suppose there's no excuse for that," she tells him weakly, and turns away, back to the print on the wall.

"Why did you leave?" Neji asks, quietly, when she begins to move away, one heavy footstep at a time.

Tenten chews on her lips, not quite seeing her framed prints anymore. She presses her nails into her palms. "I can't do this. I've told you that before."

"What are you afraid of?" is his next question, and Tenten doesn't answer him, walking instead to the easels in the middle of the room. The remaining audience hasn't paid them any mind.

She's staring blankly at one of the prints on the easels when he approaches, coming to stand just next to her, so his arm almost brushes hers, but not quite.

"How is _Beauty Without Words_ doing?" Neji changes the direction of his inquiries, referring to the gallery show now. Tenten winces inwardly - she should've chosen a better title for it, though the urge to name it similarly to his first concert had been too tangible to ignore.

"It's doing fine. We've sold a couple of prints," she replies tightly.

"Which ones?" Neji presses, and she turns, pointing them out to him. "Do you have a favorite?"

Tenten pauses at this next question, because admitting that she likes any of them would be acknowledging that she enjoys the work they've created - and right now, she wants as much distance between herself and Neji as she can possibly get. "The one that was sold, in that corner," she blurts, and looks at the floor, wishing she were anywhere but here. Neji can probably hear her heart beating from where he is.

She remembers the texture of his lips, too, and how he felt against her throat.

Subconsciously, she reaches up to rub the backs of her fingers against her neck, for warmth, and Neji shrugs out of his jacket in response.

"You need it more than I do," he tells her, when he wraps it around her shoulders, and she protests. Tenten resists the urge to close her eyes and breathe his scent; and she fails, tucking her chin down, away from him. She's missed this mix of pine and musk.

"Thanks," she mutters, still looking away from him, and huddles within the warmth of his jacket. "I'm, um, sorry about the other day."

Neji remains silent for a while, before he finally yields, "I didn't expect you to leave."

She refrains from snapping at him, instead asking the question that's ghosted through her mind on multiple occasions, "Do you do that often? That is, bring women home with you?"

He exhales sharply, as if in a stifled laugh. "Not in a long while."

"Oh." Tenten nibbles on her lip, and turns away again, heading to another corner of the gallery. He follows.

She's still chewing on her lip when Neji speaks again. "Consider not doing that."

"Do what?" she looks at him then, and is caught in the paleness of his eyes, and how they seem to glow in the amber tones of the gallery lights.

"Biting your lip," Neji tells her, and reaches up to brush the back of his finger over said lip. "It's distracting."

"H-how so?" she mutters, but doesn't pull away from his touch. It's gentle, like he was-

Neji shrugs, and withdraws his hand. "It makes me want to kiss you."

He looks away then, as if embarrassed, and she gapes at him, her jaw hanging awkwardly open.

"Haven't you been put off enough?" Tenten asks, when she finally remembers to shut her mouth.

"I'm intrigued," he admits, glancing at the pictures on the wall. "Though I will appreciate it if you stopped running away in the future."

"You're assuming too much," she tells him at length, when her mind has slowly processed his words. (And Lee's words come back to haunt her - _you aren't going to let go of your scars like that._)

"Isn't it time to close?" Neji asks, glancing briefly at his phone, before looking back at her.

Tenten follows his gaze, and blinks. Time sure flew by when Neji made his appearance. "I guess it is."

There aren't any other guests in the gallery, so Tenten does a quick scan of the place for trash, and gathers her belongings. Neji is still hovering by the door when she crouches to lock up.

"Coffee?" he asks, and Tenten is reminded of the first time he offered her that, at the political rally.

"Um, sure," she tells him, and shrugs. It can't be all that bad, right?

"Did you drive here?" Neji glances at her as they're walking along the sidewalk, turning towards a parking lot.

"I don't own a car," Tenten admits with a grimace. "They're kind of expensive in the city."

"Oh, right." Neji falls silent, and they make their way slowly to his vehicle. The street lamps cast shadows that swivel around them as they walk, and Tenten watches them with detached interest.

"You need to stop doing that," she tells him, when he opens the passenger door for her again.

"At some point, perhaps," Neji smiles, and shuts the door behind her.

Tenten shrugs out of his jacket when he starts the engine, warm air blowing soothingly onto her face. He accepts the article and stashes it in the backseat, though he doesn't begin driving immediately.

"Are we waiting for something?" she asks, and feels bare all over again when he looks at her, his features faintly lit by the lights on the dashboard. It feels much more intimate in here, when it's just him and her in this little enclosed space.

"What happened during your childhood?" Neji probes, lightly. Tenten sighs and hugs her bag closer to herself. It doesn't seem as if he's going to be driving anytime soon. Maybe she should've declined his invitation for coffee.

She sinks into her seat, and stares up at the roof of the car unseeingly, allowing buried memories to surface. "They were happy at first, my parents. They were the very image of happiness, you know, loving hugs and kisses and things like that."

Neji nods, but says nothing.

"We ran into financial issues when I was about eight. My dad lost his job, and my mom was a housewife - they tried starting their own business and it failed... And due to his age, it wasn't as easy for him to land another job, you know?" Tenten mumbles, looking down at her feet when she remembers the endless arguments and smashed pottery, resounding in her ears as if they happened just yesterday. "He didn't like his next job, or the one after, and he turned to alcohol.

"My mom tried to patch things up, but it only worked for a short time, until my dad came home drunk, and-"

"Was he violent?" Neji interrupts, softly, and she shakes her head.

"No, though he did get pretty close to it," Tenten admits heavily. "And he was the last person you'd expect to raise his fist, though the booze changed that. It was just argument after argument, and sometimes they blamed me for things, and- Anyway, that's the gist of it. I don't want to commit to someone and have it fail like that."

"How are they doing now?" Neji finally asks, shifting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot.

"They're... separated. I don't really talk to them now," Tenten mumbles, looking out of the window at the lights flashing past. Maybe after hearing all that, Neji would finally understand and let her go. "My life really changed after I met Tsunade."

"She's never encouraged you to visit your parents?" Neji responds, glancing at her.

"Well, she did," Tenten admits uncomfortably. "I just... never took the time to, I guess. I don't know if my parents really know me anymore."

"At least they're alive," Neji muses. "Mine are dead."

She casts a quick look at him in shock. "But... how? You live comfortably and all that..."

"My uncle took me in," Neji tells her, shrugging. "I grew up with him and my cousins."

"What are they like?" Tenten asks. They've never really discussed family in-depth before this, and she can't deny that she's curious about Neji's relatives.

"My uncle, Hiashi, is strict, a quiet man. Hinata, the older cousin, is shy and lacks confidence - I don't know how she's going to take over the family business. Her sister, Hanabi, has dreams of it, but she's still too young to at the moment," Neji informs her blandly.

"Are they okay with you playing the piano?" she asks, without really thinking, and Neji smiles dryly.

"Only if I keep it to a minimum," he replies, and Tenten makes a face.

"That must suck," she blurts.

Neji shrugs again. "One learns to live with it."

She digests his words slowly, and he's silent when they pull into the parking lot of a coffee shop. "You've learnt to put up with a lot, haven't you?" Tenten comments at length.

He smirks. "Doesn't everyone?"

She grins weakly. "I guess we do."

Neji pauses at the entrance of the drive-thru, and flicks his gaze at her. "Would you rather have coffee inside?"

She shakes her head. "This is fine."

Neji turns the car into the drive-thru lane, and an audible gasp escapes from her throat when she spots the Christmas-themed posters advertising the season's drinks. "The Christmas drinks are out," she exclaims.

"Your favorite?" He smiles. The atmosphere in the car has lightened some, with their family histories put behind them, and she's thankful for that.

"The peppermint mocha," Tenten grins. "Let me guess, you're getting the green tea again."

"How did you ever guess?" he returns, mildly, and places their order through the stand by the menus.

Tenten snorts. "I never really pegged you as having a sense of humor."

"I don't," Neji deadpans, and the car inches forward, towards the drive-thru window.

"Oh yeah? What about that bit about you painting backstage?" she challenges, the corners of her lips quirking at the memory.

"I aspire to," he tells her, straight-faced, and Tenten bursts out laughing. Gravity leaves her bereft for long moments, even after Neji has paid for and collected their drinks, setting them in the cup-holders on the console.

When she's finally regained her breath, Neji gestures towards the paper cups. "I figured that we could finish that at my place, unless you prefer us heading to your apartment instead."

Tenten leans into her seat, considering both options. "I guess it doesn't really make a difference, does it?" she thinks aloud.

"It might if you're planning to leave a sum on my tab again," Neji answers drolly, glancing at her. Tenten flushes.

"I, um, I'm sorry about that," she mutters, looking away from him. "I could pay you back in full, no problem-"

"The actual amount isn't the issue," Neji tells her with a pointed look. She bites on her lip, hard.

It is painfully silent for a long while, and Tenten wonders what Neji is thinking. It feels as if they haven't just spent weeks apart, not talking, though it has sure been enough time for her to replay, repeatedly, that night in his penthouse, every single moment of it.

"There are compromises in every relationship," Neji begins, as they pull into the parking lot beneath his apartment. "That said, given a choice, I would do my best never to hurt you."

"I..." Tenten knows he's right, that he's speaking the truth, even before his words fully sink in. "Why aren't you in a relationship already?" she asks, to delay having to respond.

"I hadn't found the right person," he answers mildly; she frowns.

"Surely you've met a lot of eligible women though, you're rich and famous," Tenten states, disbelieving.

"That tends to attract the wrong sort of people," Neji tells her wryly. He shuts the car off and indicates for her to collect her drink.

They're breezing through the lobby (Ichiraku gives a polite nod) and heading up in the elevator before she finally dares to pry, cautiously, "What do you see in me, then?"

They exit into the penthouse lobby, and Neji leads them to the living area, settling himself into an armchair. (Tenten is vaguely glad that he isn't sitting right next to her on the couch.) "You're different," he says, contemplatively, "You're interested, but you'd much rather not act on that interest."

"Who said I'm interested?" she mutters, sipping from her peppermint mocha (to her disappointment, the whipped cream has already dissolved into the drink at this point).

Neji smirks, and merely looks at her. She takes a pretty accurate guess at what he's thinking, and looks away, heat creeping up her neck. The curtain-lined large windows suddenly seem more interesting to look at than he is.

"You are also intelligent, and do not take things for granted," Neji continues, and moves over to sit next to her - she looks at him in alarm, though he's careful to maintain some distance between them. "You also smell good."

She tenses, remembering that intimacy they shared, how he pressed his face into her neck, and chest, and-

"Well, so do you," Tenten tells him awkwardly. She tightens her grip around the paper cup, and takes another gulp. Is fear really a good reason not to experience what life has to offer?

"We could be good together," Neji murmurs, and slides a little closer to her, setting his cup on the coffee table. "You've seen the images we've done, and you know that we're good in bed-"

"You're shameless," she snaps at him, her face burning. (And he is right. Again.)

"Maybe I just want another kiss," he tells her, and smirks. Tenten finds that she can't keep her glare up for long. His request is tempting, though she knows that giving in would complicate things further. "Give us a try. If it doesn't work out, we'll return to being good friends."

"It doesn't work that way," Tenten grouses. "I've seen my friends go through bad breakups."

"It doesn't necessarily mean that that will happen to us." Neji inches closer, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "Statistics aren't a good enough indicator to determine whether we'll work out. Our actions are."

"You're right," Tenten admits grudgingly, looking sidelong at him, though she doesn't move away. His warmth is very inviting (especially when it is just his skin against hers).

"Will you agree to this already, so I can kiss you?" Neji grits, with the barest hints of impatience in his tone, and Tenten grins, realizing, quite abruptly, that she likes him enough to dare expose her vulnerabilities to him.

She sets her mocha down on the table and squirms around, to straddle his lap, grasping his face lightly with her hands. Neji studies her with his pale lilac eyes, and blinks once.

"Is this an agreement?" he asks eventually.

Tenten grins, and lowers her lips to his, so a hair's breadth remains between them. "If I said yes?" she whispers.

"I would scream and cry for joy," Neji answers, looking straight at her; Tenten giggles at the visual he conjures.

"I dare you to," she tells him, though he merely smirks, and tips his face towards hers, sealing their lips in a kiss.

* * *

><p>"All I had in mind was coming up here to finish my coffee," Tenten mutters into the crook of his bare shoulder much later. Not for the first time, she admires the silkiness of his sheets, and his hair, and how his lips part when she touches her fingertips to them.<p>

"Finish it later," Neji replies, languidly, slipping an arm around her back to pull her closer to him.

"Are you ordering me around already?" she chides, sending her elbow into his gut. Neji grunts.

"I wouldn't dare to," he answers, looking as if he would be rolling his eyes, if it weren't so uncharacteristic of him.

"Good," Tenten smiles, and reaches down to caress him. He angles a pointed glance at her.

"Do you have something else in mind now?" Neji asks, blandly, amusement glittering in his eyes, and she grins.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

* * *

><p><em>And... we've come to the end of the photographer story. How did you find it? ;) If you've enjoyed the story at any point, now's your last chance to say so! (and thank the author, like you should. LOL)<em>

_I can see a continuation of this happening, though it wouldn't be likely, I think, due to the next storyline being less of a focus on Neji and Tenten's relationship... but we'll see. At the moment, I'm concentrating on Complexities of Blackmail, and toying with an angel!Tenten fic idea. ;) Don't forget to R&R the elf prince story too!_

Side note:_ f/2.8, ISO 100 are actually camera settings used in portrait photography. :) Sorry I forgot to mention that earlier!_


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